<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Thunderbolt Fantasy Xī Yōu: Resonant Memory by saturnalius</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570313">Thunderbolt Fantasy Xī Yōu: Resonant Memory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnalius/pseuds/saturnalius'>saturnalius</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Xī Yōu Sword Indexing Stories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thunderbolt Fantasy 東離劍遊紀 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drama, Emotional, Prequel, insidious imperial plot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:35:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>39,256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570313</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnalius/pseuds/saturnalius</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For two years, Shāng Bù Huàn, Mù Tiān Mìng, and Làng Wū Yáo traveled across Xī Yōu, taking swords from the empire and sealing them in the Sorcerous Sword Index. When seeking a sorcerous sword called the Mountain Gale high in a mountain shrine, a poor judgment call and a nefarious imperial plot sends Làng careening into a deep misty ravine.</p>
<p>Lost identity, a deadly mistake, a songbird without memories, the guilt of a dear friend’s death, a binding sorcerous sword. If you had lost nearly everything, how far would you go to get it back?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Xī Yōu Sword Indexing Stories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Storm Seal Shrine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I want that Sword-plundering Nemesis gone as much as you do,” she admitted, gripping the handle of the broom tightly. The priestess had heard the rumors as much as any other seal guardian had. The Nemesis came in the night and stole priceless relics from the War of Fading Dusk and disappeared as much as he came. But this was the first time she’d heard he had accomplices. “But to use a relic? This seems far too risky.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Riskier than having them steal the sorcerous sword in the middle of the night?” the imperial pushed up his glasses. “If you do this, you will be renown as the shrine that helped to take down that villain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She seemed unconvinced by his words, though there was that concern that the precious relic her clan guarded would be stolen so easily. Was the Sword-plundering Nemesis truly so powerful? Could she take that risk? She stared at the broom in her hands, still debating on what to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He spotted the concern still written on her face. Just a little more work and he could seal this deal with her. “Very well, seal guardian. I shall speak to her highness Princess Cháo Fēng </span>
  <em>
    <span>personally</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make you the </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> recognized seal shrine in all of Xī Yōu,” he added with a grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can truly do this?” Now there was an enticing offer. Not having to worry about imperial pressure or the Sword-plundering Nemesis would certainly leave the guardians to do their work. Perhaps she could strike a deal with this man. “What would you have me do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grinned, pushing up his glasses.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>…..</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng Bù Huàn peered out of the forest at the nearby Storm Seal Shrine. The place was rather remote, nested high in the central mountain range and away from any nearby towns. Walls surrounded the edges though the doors were set open wide with a singular guard posted at each. A large courtyard lay just beyond the wall with a few sacred trees tied with blessings. Further in was a large building, the doors shuttered tight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For rumors of imperial activity, this place certainly is quiet,” Mù Tiān Mìng observed. “Perhaps it was just rumors. Most people don’t come up this way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re not exactly quiet about raiding seal shrines and taking the sorcerous swords within,” Shāng frowned. “It doesn’t look like they’ve been here. The place is still standing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The imperial army had been quite aggressive in their search for swords lately. They were caught up in a supernatural arms race with Shāng and company to see who would reach the sword first. Even if the sword ended up in Imperial hands, they stole it back and sealed it away, much to Xiào Kuáng Juàn’s annoyance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng peered over at Làng Wū Yáo who hadn’t moved much since they’d arrived. The bard had joined them two years ago on their quest to seal all of Xi You’s sorcerous swords. Shāng couldn’t always tell what he was thinking, but at the moment, it wasn’t hard to guess. He’d seen Làng do this before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng had his eyes closed, listening to everything around them with his hand placed on the ground. He could hear the birds in the nearby trees, the wind blowing a bridge nearby, the guards nearby shifting uncomfortably, the lack of travelers on the pathways. There was someone sweeping inside the courtyard, pacing uncomfortably as if they were expecting something, anticipating someone to come.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng frowned. “Something is bothering you, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is a trap, man!” Líng Yá replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a chance of that every time we follow the trail of a sword,” Mù pointed out, “especially with the empire and Huò Shì Míng Huáng competing against us to acquire these swords.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stood up without another word, but Shāng caught him by the edge of the robe as he aimed to leave the forest. “I can hear someone with ill intent,” Làng informed them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù leaned just enough to peer into the courtyard without being seen. “I see a seal guardian sweeping. No imperials unless they’re further in and hiding. But they’re not always the best at hiding.” The woman was probably close to Mù’s age, long dark hair pulled into a low ponytail. Her robes were long in red and white with a black lightning pattern embroidered up her sleeves. She had a black hat on her head with a large white lotus decoration. “You can’t mean her, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng hadn’t expected a seal guardian to be the source of the sound, but his sense was never wrong. He peered at her as she swept, just to be certain. It was definitely her. He peered back at his companions. They still didn’t quite understand what he was thinking all the time, not that he spoke all that much. He was still working on that. “She is expecting something. Her movements, her shortness of breath, her pacing back and forth, sweeping the same location over and over again. Her stance speaks of ill intent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now hold on, Làng,” Shāng hadn’t released the grip on his robe. “She’s just sweeping. She hasn’t done anything yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we don’t do something, she will cause trouble for us,” Làng warned. He was quite absolute in his judgment. Someone with evil in their hearts had to be stopped before they did something terrible. He had witnessed enough evil firsthand, his sharp natural senses picking up on the minute details to determine someone’s intent. She was close enough he could hear them as she swept near the entrance, and now seeing her, he was certain that he was correct. He couldn’t let his companions get hurt from someone like that. Their quest to protect Xī Yōu was dangerous. He didn’t want some evil seal guardian to Mùck everything up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Làng, we can’t just go and attack the only other people trying to protect Xī Yōu,” Shāng frowned. “The seal guardians are still trying to keep the swords from the War of Fading Dusk from falling into evil hands.” The problem was that the empire was taking down shrines and forcing the guardians to hand over the swords or else. This one seemed remote enough with a number of natural defenses that they could fend off the imperials at least for a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His sense is never wrong, you know!” Líng Yá informed Shāng.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng huffed. He knew that Làng could sense things he really couldn’t understand. Conceptual things like intent and illusions. He could </span>
  <em>
    <span>sense </span>
  </em>
  <span>that. “People can have bad thoughts and not act upon them. I’d rather give her the benefit of the doubt, especially with the empire possibly traipsing around here. That nervousness could be from that, after all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù sighed. She knew how sensitive Làng was, but Shāng did have a point. People did sometimes have bad thoughts. Well maybe not Shāng. He seemed to never have any ill intent, even when he was stomping imperials into the ground. And the empire’s shrine-stomping habits could make anyone nervous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng continued to stare at the entrance. Her unconscious actions could be telling that story. Was he jumping into this a bit too quickly, assuming the worst before it happened? He frowned a bit. He was absolutely certain he was correct but he made no move to pry his robe from Shāng’s grip. Perhaps there was still a lot he had to understand about the rest of the world. He didn’t always understand people. That much was true in his attempts to communicate with his companions and to understand where someone supernatural like him fit in this world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s there?” the seal guardian called out from the entrance. “I hear you talking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù stepped out of the woods first. “Sorry, we’re just passing through.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guardian frowned. “This is pretty remote for ‘just passing through’, you know.” She watched as the two men emerged from the forest as well. There he was, the Sword-plundering Nemesis. The imperial described him well, though Shāng definitely wore a more pleasant expression than she’d expected. She tightened her grip on her broom. She had to go through with this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng kept his attention on the seal guardian. Her stance defied her calm demeanor. She was up to something, and he well knew it from her movements. He kept Líng Yá in his arms, making no move against her despite his better judgment. Perhaps it was nothing, perhaps the imperials had put her on guard like Shāng said. But the way she had returned the stare told him more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng placed a hand on Làng’s shoulder, seeing his friend tighten his grip on Líng Yá.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re looking for the town, you can just follow this pathway across the ravine,” the guardian pointed down the road. “It’s about half a day’s walk from here. You should reach it by nightfall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you. We’ll do just that,” Mù bowed politely, turning towards the road. The hike up the mountains through the forest looked much safer than the road in the indicated direction. The path they had taken up was solid ground, though the hike was rather steep. This one required crossing a ravine on a wooden bridge that swayed slightly in the breeze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng didn’t like the idea of leaving that seal guardian as she was. The way she seemed to be boring a hole into his back made him uneasy. “We should deal with that guardian before something happens,” he warned as they stepped on the bridge. “It cannot simply be the imperial forces which had set her off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng sighed. He was rather insistent about this, but he knew Làng meant well. “Let’s save that sort of thought for the imperials. If they did truly come through this way, they shouldn’t be too far off, and I’d rather catch up with them. If they have a sorcerous sword, we can take it from them before they can use it against the people, especially with terrain like this. There’s only two ways up this mountain and they certainly weren’t on the other slope we came up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng frowned a bit. Perhaps it was best to follow the imperials even though that seal guardian’s stance still bothered him. There were more important things like ensuring that the people were safe from whatever imperial plot was going on here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Given the information we’ve heard, this is the only way they could’ve gone,” Mù reasoned. She turned, noticing that Làng had stopped on the bridge. She frowned. That sense of evil he picked up at the shrine must still be eating at him. He was certainly one to enact justice against those with evil hearts, but she hadn’t seen him want to harm someone before they had actually done anything. Still, despite his words, he’d hesitated. “Wū Yáo, let’s---”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leapt backwards as a cracking sound rang out over the ravine. The bridge gave out, splitting at the center near where Làng had been standing. “Wū Yáo!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bard leapt along the falling planks, attempting to grab at whatever he could, he narrowly missed the bridge’s rope, finding himself falling quickly. His leap had fortunately flung him enough towards the cliffside opposite Shāng and Mù, his hand barely finding a jut of rock to catch himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wū Yáo!” Mù shouted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng gritted his teeth. “Làng! Hold on!” The ravine was far too wide to leap across. The mists below concealed its depths. Perhaps he could use his wooden blade to dislodge rocks and create handholds. He pulled his sword from his belt, pausing as someone approached. “This wasn’t an accident, was it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was easier than I expected.” The shrine guardian stepped out of the woods, her broom still in hand as she brandished it like a sword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the seal guardian!” Mù shouted. “What did you do?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Lián Měi, the guardian of the Storm Seal Shrine!” she announced. “And I will not have the Sword-plundering Nemesis and his cronies take the Mountain Gale from this shrine!” It was time to fulfill her part of the bargain. The imperial would take care of the rest, and soon her shrine would be protected from both the empire and the greatest villain in all of Xī Yōu. She rose the broom up above her head, driving it downward in a large arch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A gust of wind followed her movements, pushing downwards into the ravine. Làng gripped the side of the ravine wall tightly, digging his fingers into the rocks. They were slippery from the mist, threatening to loose his grip and send him to the ravine below.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hang on, Làng!” Líng Yá shouted as he flipped to Làng’s back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bard attempted to grip the tiny ledge with both hands. He had no means to defend himself, using as much qi as he could to stabilize himself. That seal guardian was trouble, he just knew it. Perhaps he should’ve been more insistent about this. But now he was at her mercy, trying to hang on as best he could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he would’ve been fine had the ledge not cracked and given into the pressure of the winds. He pulled Líng Yá from his back, using sonic waves to counter the winds as he fell into the mountain mists below.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Làng!” Shāng shouted in horror. “Laaaang!!!”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The misty ravine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Their friend's life hangs in the balance.<br/>A seal guardian willing to commit murder.<br/>What will wait for them at the bottom of the ravine?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Wū Yáo!” Mù Tiān Mìng shouted. She couldn’t see him anymore as he fell into the misty ravine. She felt so helpless. There wasn’t anything she could do to stop it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng Bù Huàn turned his attention to the seal guardian, Lián Měi, with a horrified expression tearing itself across his face. Làng Wū Yáo had been right about her. She had darkness in her heart, and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>acted </span>
  </em>
  <span>upon it. Now Làng’s life was hanging in the balance somewhere deep below them. The bard could possibly survive that fall, given that the mist hadn’t covered a much deeper ravine than it seemed. Hopefully Làng could literally hang on until they found him. “Why?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?!” Lián scoffed at them. “I know who you are, Shāng Bù Huàn!” the shrine guardian jabbed a finger at him. “I know you’re after the Mountain Gale! I won’t let you steal my clan’s sword!” She brandished the broom at them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng stared. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>a broom. That was a sorcerous sword right there in front of them the whole time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was more to the story, more that Lián wasn’t saying. An imperial had approached her a few days prior, one with a suspicious smile and a small army at his side. Xiào Kuáng Juàn had made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. All she had to do was separate the red bard from the rest of the party and send him into the ravine. She had thought the Sword-plundering Nemesis was the greater threat, but Xiào had promised her that he’d handle the Nemesis himself. As long as the group was separated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had done the task at hand. Now it was just time to wait until Xiào held up his end of the bargain and made the Storm Seal Shrine the only </span>
  <em>
    <span>official </span>
  </em>
  <span>seal shrine in all of Xī Yōu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lián turned, heading back towards the shrine with the broom-sword in hand. They were the villains. They had to be punished by the full extent of the law before they unraveled the very core of society. She couldn’t feel for them no matter what, even if that horrified expression they gave her made her feel like she’d done something awful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng could feel himself shaking as Mù Tiān Mìng dragged him away. He couldn’t understand why a seal guardian had reacted in such a way, but what had made it worse was that they had no idea where Làng was. The echoes of his musical attacks had faded quickly in the mist below.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps even worse, Làng had noticed the intent and Shāng was insistent she was good. If something happened to his friend, he only had himself to blame. He had to make this right. He had to find Làng.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng stopped on the pathway, staring down into the mist below. They had no idea how deep the ravine actually was. It was only on this side of the mountain, opposite of the path they had taken upward. much of the mountain was covered in mist, concealing the features of the faces from above and below. They had no way of knowing how far Làng had fallen and what state he was in after that attack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dammit!” Shāng gritted his teeth. “Làng! Say something! Anything!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bù Huàn,” Mù placed a hand on his shoulder. “We need to keep moving. It took us nearly a week to get up here, and it might take several days running to get back down. There’s no safe way down that ravine just yet. And this </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>Wū Yáo. I’m sure he survived the fall and is using his qi to repair himself wherever he landed. We just need to find him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She peered over the cliffside, hoping to hear a song echo back to them. Làng’s voice could carry, but perhaps he was simply too far down to be heard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng nodded. She knew Làng better than he did, though she had spoken of him several times after first meeting him. That songbird with a supernatural voice sharpened to a blade who seemed lonely and trapped. Làng had become a strong ally but he was also a good friend. Shāng didn’t want to think of losing a friend, especially because of his own misjudgment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They followed the pathway along the cliffside, sleeping as little as possible to travel quickly. And even as exhaustion set in, they continued on their way, finding the bottom within two days. The mist floated overhead, obscuring the height of the mountain and the bridge they had left behind. The bottom felt peaceful, not aware of the dangerous battle from above. Birds chirped in the trees. Something rustled in the brush, scampering away as the pair approached.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng frowned, uncertain how they would even find Làng. He probably hadn’t gotten far after a fall like that, but he had to keep Mù’s words in his mind. Làng was more powerful than he realized sometimes. He’d sparred with the bard before, feeling the power that Làng drove into every attack. He’d seen the power of his voice. Làng was definitely no pushover.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But a fall from a tall mountain into a ravine? That was enough to take even Shāng down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they traveled along the bottom of the ravine, they found an incline where the ravine began to narrow. Ferns and moss grew along the rocky walls as the mist dampened the nearby air. Water tricked down the rocks, creating small puddles on the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ravine widened once again, making way to a river and another cliffside. There were pathways along the side of the mountains, narrow and well-trodden. The pathways were carved into the rocks and thin and barely enough for a single person to walk and reach the next town though the ravine. No one was traveling the pathway today, leaving it quiet next to the sounds of a large waterfall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before them was another cliffside with a waterfall careening over it into the land blow. A small bamboo fence lined the edges with noticeable damage near the waterside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù leapt forward, hopping over the river and picking up something on the other side. “Bù Huàn!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng leapt over to join her, nearly losing his footing as he saw what she’d spotted. Mù was now holding Líng Yá with a large gash along the side. Beads and gems scattered the rocks with a rip of cranberry red fabric clinging to the nearby bamboo fence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng snagged the fabric from the fence. He recognized that golden embroidery from Làng’s robe. He wanted to believe that Làng was still alive, that he’d staggered off to the next town. If it had just been the beads and torn fabric, he would’ve rushed right off down the pathway. But it hadn’t. Líng Yá was there, abandoned with a massive gash along the side. “Líng Yá….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pipa didn’t respond, saying silent for perhaps the first time since he’d awoken.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Say something!” he shouted at the pipa. “Anything!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the pipa continued to be silent and unmoving. It was like all the life had been pulled from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng gripped the ripped fabric tightly in his hand. “Why?! Why didn’t I listen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did what you thought was best,” Mù consoled him. She was holding back her own tears, attempting to remain calm and barely able to do so. “We had no way of knowing what would happen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Làng was certain something </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Shāng stared back up at the mist above. That broken bridge and the shrine was somewhere up there. What was Lián’s reason for doing this? The empire was more of a threat to the seal shrines than they ever could be. But rumors could be terrible in twisting people’s reasoning. Not that this made anything better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bù Huàn, I know you both well. You wouldn’t attack someone without reason,” Mù stared down at the silent pipa. “Wū Yáo on the other hand has experienced so much abuse in his life. He would want to prevent evil before it could act. You both had different perspectives.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet he listened to me,” Shāng frowned. “He didn’t attack.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m certain he knew you would stop him,” Mù said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng rubbed at his face. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> have stopped him. If their sparring had told either of them anything, Shāng could best Làng every time. He absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> have stopped Làng.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think he is also still trying to figure himself out,” Mù added. “He’s been trained to have no will of his own. He had once told me even his mother beat that into him. Coming from that and trying to understand your own resolve. It can’t be easy. He relies on us to help him out when he’s uncertain himself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng had barely known Làng before that, only hearing information filter in from Mù. She talked about Làng so much, worrying about what may happen to the trapped songbird when they had to leave to track sorcerous swords. And sure enough, Làng had found himself at the mercy of the empire, used as much as any sorcerous sword would in their hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had to trust Mù’s judgment in this case. But that didn’t make him feel any better. It was Shāng’s own misjudgment that had now gotten Làng killed. There was no way that Làng would survive a second fall. And he definitely would not leave Líng Yá behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng trusted them and Shāng only felt like an absolute failure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù handed the pipa to Shāng, practically shoving Líng Yá into his arms. “Come. There’s somewhere I think we should go.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tragedy has seemingly struck. I can't imagine Shang handling strong emotions like this very well. The guilt would just eat him alive, especially if he believed his decision had killed his friend.</p>
<p>Not that Mu is handling it any better either.</p>
<p>But what truly happened at the bottom of the ravine when Lang fell?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Caged and forgotten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Elsewhere in Xi You, a songbird wakes up</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He had barely stirred, his green eyes attempting to focus on anything. He could hear the sounds of people walking along wooden floorboards. There were birds chirping just outside the window. He smelled the blossom-scented oil burning in a pot nearby. He knew those sounds well, but he couldn’t recall what happened and why his body was in pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A dream scratched at the back of his mind. There were two people with him, or were there three? He could barely recall voices speaking to him but there were no words. He just heard incoherent sounds. Swords, some place in the mountains, a bridge, a fall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a nightmare,” Làng Wū Yáo said to himself, pushing the blankets away. His arms were bandaged up but he could move them just fine. Whatever had happened, he healed from it. It didn’t make sense. If he had become injured during a performance, he would’ve been discarded. He was only as good as he could sing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood up, pulling on his white robes as he fussed with his hair. It had become matted for some reason, twisted into long braids, and took some effort to untangle it as he pulled it into a proper topknot. He stared at himself in the mirror. Something felt off, like he’d forgotten something important. He was pretty sure he hadn’t blacked out during that last performance against Mù Tiān Mìng, but he couldn’t honestly recall how he’d gotten to his room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned, feeling someone call out to him but no one was there, no words had been spoken. Was it that voice that spoke to him when he was alone? He hadn’t heard that voice for some time, and it was particularly loud and obnoxious. This time, nothing was there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was just an empty familiar room, one that felt far too large. Decorated in the imperial style, it featured a few scrolls of bards singing while cranes surrounded them. A red incense pot burned on the far side of the room next to several potted bonsai trees. Bamboo sticks were arranged in nearby pots. Several hair ornaments sat on the far dresser next to a white pipa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Where was his mother’s red pipa? Where had it gone?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picked up the small card next to the pipa. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To replace the red one</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What had happened that he couldn’t remember?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tucked a hair ornament into his top knot. He hadn’t worn this one before but it felt appropriate with the crane decoration. He was the Court Virtuoso after all and he had to look the part despite whatever had happened. He rubbed at his shoulder, feeling a strange pain for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A caged songbird. It was everything his mother ever wanted him to be, a place where someone with his voice would be protected. A place he couldn’t cause trouble with his songs. He was honoring her memory, all because Xiào Kuáng Juàn had found him in that tavern and forced him into the position. The man had achieved his promotion because of this, and Làng had found his way to the highest position someone like him could ever hope to achieve. With his cursed voice, it was really the only place </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>like him could ever hope to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But was it? Wasn’t he something more than just a sharpened singing blade without a soul? There was, wasn’t there?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt something stab him through the heart and try to suck the life from him. He grasped at the dresser, the hair ornaments clattering to the floor as he fell. But as soon as it struck him, it was gone. Làng pushed himself up, his long hair pooling over his face and his white robes. “What… what was that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at the floor a moment before his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten for some time. He pushed himself to his feet, straightening his robes and hair. He carefully set the hair ornaments back on the dresser, reaching for the white pipa but deciding not to take it. He didn’t want it. He wanted his mother’s pipa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sliding the door open, he found the hallway familiar but not. It was indeed an imperial palace but the layout wasn’t as he recalled. He had only been at one before, but the princess owned several. At least that was what he’d heard. It was possible he was at another, but he couldn’t honestly recall how he’d gotten there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two guards stood outside his door. One was shorter and heavier set, the other tall like a string bean. They stood stiffly outside his door, straightening up even taller when Làng had opened it. Whatever they were talking about, they quickly stopped. He glanced at the pair, not sure why two guards were even standing at his door. Were they expecting someone to be here? Perhaps that Sword-plundering Nemesis Xiào liked to rattle on about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look a bit lost, Court Virtuoso,” the shorter one spoke. “Are you still injured? We can have someone fetch something for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng hadn’t expected them to actually speak to him. They tended not to. He held a rather high title at the palace but he also was the one who brought death to them during performances. Before he could answer, however, his stomach did for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A slight grin crossed the taller one’s lips. “We can have some breakfast brought for you, Court Virtuoso.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng shook his head. “No, that’s alright. I need some fresh air as well.” He headed down the hallway, feeling particularly lost while trying to find something to eat. He paused, peering down the hallway. A massive garden spanned out on either side, offering shade trees and ponds and quiet locations. He wasn’t certain he wanted to be alone with that voice that followed him, but he hadn’t heard it for some time. Perhaps the gardens would be okay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you are, my dear songbird~” Cháo Fēng quickly pushed him against the wall and leaned up against him affectionately. “I never thought I’d have you back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng wanted to push her away but he didn’t. He was her songbird, forced to tolerate that malicious aura of hers as her property. She had claimed she was shielding him from other evils than herself so he wouldn’t have to experience them with that strong sense of his. Perhaps she was right, not that he particularly liked it either way. That evil aura of hers grated on every fiber of his being. “I was... gone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t remember, do you?” Cháo continued to push into him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng wanted to sink through the wall into the next room. “Last I recall, I sang a duet with Tiān Mìng as she challenged for my position, but she had... left suddenly.” It felt like the story there was incomplete, but his mind felt hazy. He couldn’t make sense of any of it, but if she had left, that meant she was still alive somewhere. It had been so long since he’d seen her after she stopped showing up at the pagoda and eventually he did as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s all because of that nasty Shāng Bù Huàn!” Cháo informed him. “You followed that suspicious blue bard and you encountered </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the Sword-plundering Nemesis!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shāng Bù Huàn....” Làng recalled hearing words about Shāng before. Xiào hadn’t exactly talked favorably about him, calling him the greatest villain of Xī Yōu. He came in the night and he stole mystical swords for who knew what. Probably malicious things. Perhaps the princess really was trying to protect him from greater evils.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She suddenly pushed her hand into his chest, staring up at him intently. “You went with him! You left me, you fled your cage! No one can have you but me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t make sense to him at all, not that his fuzzy mind could focus on much of anything right now. That intense stare of hers told her that something </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> happened, something he couldn’t remember. “I did…?” Why would he ever leave with a sword-stealing villain? He had enough trouble tolerating the evils of the palace, but to go with someone who was trying to uproot the entire framework of society? Everything that Xiao had told him about the Sword-plundering Nemesis made him sound vile. Làng didn’t always trust everything Xiao had said, but everyone else at the palace corroborated it. It didn’t make sense that he’d go with someone like that, even in his fuzzy, confused mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Xiào Kuáng Juàn tracked you down,” Cháo glared up at him before her expression twisted into a grin. “That villain Shāng Bù Huàn used a sorcerous sword to turn you against me!” She pressed her head into him, listening to his heart seem to race with intense confusion. “He took you away from me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng wedged himself out of her grip, rubbing at his still-sore shoulder. It felt off, like he had landed on it wrong, and her pressing into it didn’t make it feel any better. “He did? That would explain why I would ever leave with a villain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was lucky that Xiào Kuáng Juàn had been tracking that villain!” Cháo continued. “Shāng Bù Huàn ended up throwing you off a cliff once you were no longer useful to him. But now you’re back, my precious songbird. I can protect you from that evil here. No one will ever steal you like that again. You are mine and mine alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So that… wasn’t a dream.” He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>fallen off a cliff. He put a hand on his head. His mind was still in a haze, but something about all of this just felt off. Perhaps hitting his head and all the injuries made him feel that way. He didn’t always expect the princess to tell him the truth, but this Shāng Bù Huàn had dozens of sorcerous swords at his disposal. He could do whatever he wanted. “Is that why… I cannot remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cháo nodded. “That sword he used on you did this! Not that you’d want to remember. I’m sure he put you through some unspeakable horrors as his blade!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The things that villain must’ve forced him to do with his voice. Did he kill someone with his voice, drive them off a cliff much like he did his mother? What if he drove the good people of Xī Yōu to villainy much as he’d done at the taverns? He didn’t want to think about it. It was better that he didn’t remember, that he stayed here where his voice could be protected as his mother had told him. “And my pipa?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That terrible Shāng Bù Huàn took it like it was some sorcerous blade!” Cháo replied, pushing herself up against him again before he had a chance to escape. She traced his face with her hand before leaning her head against him. “Xiào Kuáng Juàn wasn’t able to recover it but I hope that white one will do. I had it made </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>for you from only the finest of materials Xī Yōu has to offer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Especially for me.” Làng didn’t want the white one. He wanted the old red one. It was the last thing he had to remind him of his mother, something he had kept tightly close to him and held dear. But it didn’t seem like he had a choice in the matter. That villain Shāng had robbed him of his treasured pipa and his memories. He couldn’t forgive him for that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that you’re awake, I’ll arrange for a special celebration.” Cháo ran a hand along his robes, admiring the delicate lacework woven into them. “I hope you’re ready for a special performance tonight. Two years is a long time to wait to hear your songs again.” She ran a hand along his face before leaving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stared at the floor, his brow twisted into a knot. “I’ve lost two years?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cháo rounded the corner, her expression twisting into a devious grin. She was still angry with Làng leaving her. She knew the truth. He’d left with Shāng two years ago, becoming an accomplice to that villain of his own volition. He stole swords and aided Shāng in whatever villainy he decided to commit. Strange for someone who had such a pure soul. That decision to go with Shāng was the worst thing Làng could’ve ever done. Cháo wanted Shāng’s head on a platter and Làng as her songbird once again. But that will of his was a problem. She’d make sure that he’d never return to that horrible villainous and willful state, convince him that he was here so she could protect him, and then let the rest fall into place. With sorcerous help, of course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cháo stopped before Xiào grinning ear to ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I take it the sword’s effects are working perfectly,” Xiào pushed his glasses up his nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He doesn’t remember a thing,” Cháo said. “And you’re sure he can’t reverse the effects?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Resonant Memory’s effects can only be broken by striking the target in the same place a second time,” Xiào informed her. “And since that </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>be happening. I’ve ensured every measure that Shāng Bù Huàn believes that Làng Wū Yáo has perished on that cliffside. That villain’s resolve will soon be crushed and I’ll deliver his head to you on a platter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was amused at how easily that seal guardian had fulfilled her end of the bargain. The battle had raged on above him, throwing Làng hard into the ground below. Retrieving the unconscious bard was an easy task. Faking the rest was also easy. Damage and discard the annoying red pipa, scatter some fabric at a nearby cliff to fool the idiot into believing his ally was dead, strike Làng with the memory-thieving sword, and carry him off back to the princess for a large reward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could deal with the seal guardian later and retrieve the Mountain Gale, but for now, he’d let her believe he’d carried out his side of the deal. Which he wouldn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His memories are sealed exactly where you specified,” Xiào added. “Whatever you tell him after that will become his new absolute truth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She reached up, grasping his collar and pulling him down to her height. “If anything happens and that villain takes my songbird away from me </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Xiào Kuáng Juàn, I will have you licking my boots for a month as I step on your face. No one is allowed to have Wū Yáo </span>
  <em>
    <span>except me</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào pushed up his glasses as she released his collar. He’d rather keep his dignity intact as well as whatever rewards that the princess offered to him. Licking boots didn’t exactly fall into his plans. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>If</span>
  </em>
  <span> that villain shows his face here, I’ll be sure to deal with him accordingly. You will have your songbird and I’ll have that villain’s head.” He would make sure of it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chao really wants Lang back as her songbird, but Lang obviously won't return. It's hard to say how much Xiao really told Chao about what happened. She definitely wouldn't be pleased to know that Lang was now with Shang.</p>
<p>But desperate women with dangerous swords can be quite destructive. And here, that destructive energy targeted Lang's memories. What will become of the songbird now that he's lost two years of his life? What will happen to Shang and Mu?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Songbird</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's been two years, but some things never change. A songbird must always sing and fight and never get a drop of blood on his nice white lace robes.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Làng Wū Yáo sat on his feet in the middle of the arena lined with important guests. It felt like an eternity since he’d done this, but two years of his life had been stolen from him. Remembering seemed pointless, but perhaps he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to remember. If he’d been forced to commit villainy like a sharpened blade, perhaps it was best left unknown. It didn’t seem like he would do it willingly. He hated evil. It was the one thing he had an opinion on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But part of him did wonder what he had seen on these travels. What did the world look like outside his own mountain home, the taverns, and this imperial cage?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, this wasn’t something for a songbird to be thinking. He shouldn’t dream of travel and adventure nor was he certain he could. If he committed villainy, the people would be afraid of him. It was safer here where his songs couldn’t affect anyone, where his voice would be protected from the outside world who didn’t understand him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced over his shoulder a moment. There it was again, that feeling that someone was trying to speak to him. It couldn’t be that voice he’d heard before, the one that would talk to him when he was alone. He didn’t want to hear that voice or whatever was trying to whisper to him. Both of them needed to go away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng turned his attention back to the white pipa. He didn’t like how new it felt. It was fine craftsmanship, perhaps the finest that Xī Yōu could produce, but it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It didn’t have that worn out feeling from years of playing. It didn’t have the memories of his mother and the mountains. But that villain had stolen that from him too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of all things to take. A humble worn-out pipa. It didn’t make sense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gathered friends!” Cháo Fēng announced, drawing Làng from his thoughts. “Tonight we celebrate the return of my stolen songbird!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the princess spoke, Làng turned over a few songs in his mind. He normally felt more prepared with his song choices, but today had been a jumble. Everything felt off and the more he thought about it, the more he physically ached. Perhaps the princess was right. Remembering </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>only causing him pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared down at his left hand for a moment. It felt like he was supposed to wear something on his fingers for playing, but he couldn’t remember a time when he ever did. Perhaps it was something from that gap in time he couldn’t remember, the two years of his life stolen from him. He had to push that out of his mind. Whatever villainy he had committed during those two years, he had to stop trying to remember.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng closed his eyes as he stood up. Cháo Fēng had finished speaking but he wasn’t really paying attention to her words. He pulled at the strings, letting the music carry his worries away. The strings felt stiff on his fingers despite his attempts to break them in earlier. The battle had already begun before the first words left his lips. He drove his foot into the imperial soldier, ejecting him from the arena as he quickly adjusted the tune on the pipa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Journeyed days across the distance,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Keep walking on: His/Story.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Vowed to be fearless—broken and hopeless,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What was gained, what has been lost?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words spoke to him. What </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>been gained or lost in those two years? Something had been gained in those missing years, something just out of reach. There was something happy, something he was missing and had forgotten.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt the sharp pain in his heart again, dropping to a knee as he evaded a lance coming for him. Whatever this was reminding him of had to stop. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Focus on the words, Wū Yáo. Do not think of that villain and what he did to you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There was no way that committing treachery across Xī Yōu could ever be counted as a pleasant memory. It had to be the effects of whatever sorcerous sword was used on him. It skewed his thoughts and caused him pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Even so, the throbbing seeks that spark,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The enticement of an unfinished dream.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A lack of focus would mean his death and he had just returned. He couldn’t die here. He focused on the sounds around him, the soldiers dashing into the arena, the stiff hum of the strings of the new white pipa. The sound still felt off even though it was perfectly in tune. He rammed the white pipa into the approaching soldiers, spiking them on the fence as he continued his song.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh this is wonderful!” Cháo Fēng leaned on her table. She propped her chin up on her hands. She thought she would never be able to hear this tune again after Làng had left her. She never wanted him to leave again, no matter what it took. She was the princess, so she got what she wanted. “More more!” She commanded more soldiers into the arena to confront Làng. She reached over across the table, dragging Xiào down to it. “Do not let anyone deny me this song.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do not worry, princess,” he practically spoke through the table. “The plan is already laid out. There’s no way that idiot will see through it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” she released him, going back to clapping and enjoying the blood that Làng was now shedding across the arena.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng hadn’t stopped singing yet, kicking the blade from the soldier’s hands then plunging it right through his heart. Stepping out of the way, he avoided getting blood on his white outfit. Perhaps he needed a better color, but he’d worn white for so long, imagining another color didn’t seem right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The land is cloaked in deepest blue</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The shadow of eagles across the moon.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Leave the pain and scars in the past.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d worn another color recently, hadn’t he? Cranberry perhaps? No, that was ridiculous. He always wore white ever since he grew too tall for the robes when he first left the mountains. Perhaps it was something from the missing two years he didn’t want to think about. He had to trust that the princess had told him the truth, but he honestly didn’t trust her very much. She could be feeding him lies, but little made sense at the moment. The pain in his chest, the wounds, the missing time. It must be the effects of that sorcerous sword, but there was something scratching at the back of his soul that told him things were just </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finished his song, surrounded by dead bodies, a successful performance for a bloodthirsty princess who had done so much to get him back. Perhaps he should be thankful that she was protecting his voice from the treachery of the outside world, but something still bothered him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He retreated after the party, though not to his room. He was tired and hungry, but he needed some fresh air that didn’t stink of death. Like the other palace where he’d lived, this one too had an extensive zen garden surrounded by a tall wall. A large pond with a stone bridge, several stone lanterns lighting the pathway. Fireflies hung low along the pines that bordered the walkway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alone and with no voice nagging at him. It was quiet. He could hear the crickets playing their nightly tune, the guards nearby chattering about how bewitching the performance was, what they heard of it at least. A breeze rustled the leaves in the trees. Koi swam in the pond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quiet. He pulled at the white pipa strings. They still didn’t feel natural to him yet, but he’d never played with a new one before. He had the old pipa that belonged to his mother, the one now likely gone forever thanks to that villain. He still couldn’t understand why a Sword-plundering Nemesis would steal a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pipa</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It wasn't anything special. He would simply have to break in this new white one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the edge of the pond, he knelt down. Scooping up some water, he rubbed at the blood stain on the side. He managed to keep himself from becoming bloodied, but jamming a pipa into someone’s wound inevitably got the pipa dirty. At least it hadn’t completely dried and he was able to get most of it off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing up, he pulled the strings to a tune he didn’t often play, humming the lyrics for a moment before singing quietly so he wouldn’t draw the attention of the guards in the hallway. It was the song his mother taught him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Even as the snow piles up in the stillness</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The sound will ring out no matter how faint</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If you can strain your ears and find the source</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>In that moment, you will hear my playing.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled at the strings some more, adjusting the knobs at the top. The sound still felt off to him though the pipa was perfectly in tune. So much was going through his mind about that two year gap it felt like it was affecting his hearing. No matter how much he wanted to not think about it, he just couldn’t stop. The overwhelming feeling that something was wrong wouldn’t leave him alone. Perhaps it was that sorcerous sword skewing his thoughts. Perhaps there was still a part of it that was affecting him, even if he couldn’t remember.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped, turning sharply as he thought someone was trying to speak to him. Xiào was standing on the edge of the courtyard, watching a moment before heading back down the hallway. Something about that man made Làng’s blood boil more than usual. He didn’t particularly like the sneaky fox, but he did save his life from that villain Shāng Bù Huàn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Did he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was there more to this tale?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng shook the thought from his head, walking back across the bridge and towards his room. Perhaps some rest would clear his head.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The sword is really affecting poor Lang. I really felt like Chao Feng would go to any point to hear Lang's songs again, just to hear his voice and see him spray blood across the battlefield. I wonder how long they can keep this up before something goes wrong?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Bitter cold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Shang and Mu head up into the mountains to make a memorial.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shāng Bù Huàn felt the cold nipping at his ears as the wind threatened to pull the furs from his shoulders. Not once the entire journey had he let go of his tight grip on Líng Yá. The pipa hadn’t called him an idiot or made a smart remark or cursed at anything along the way. He’d been a silent reminder of everything that went </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Without Làng’s sorcerous songs and hopes and wishes he’d put into the pipa, Líng Yá had essentially died with him. He didn’t want to think about it. Everything just hurt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù Tiān Mìng turned at the top of the long mountain climb. “We’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng glanced around. The summit was covered in snow and ice, nearly burying a worn wooden hut and a fire pit in the cold. This was certainly the strangest place Mù had taken him. “What is this place?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wū Yáo’s home,” Mù replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng wasn’t exactly vocal about his past. Shāng knew he had been through a lot of hardships, used and abused most of his time like a supernatural blade. In a way, he was. He referred to himself as a blade, but Làng was much more than that. He was a person and a friend, one that was now lost deep down a cliffside due to Shāng’s own misjudgment. “This is his home?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you remember when we took him with us?” Mù recalled. “Before he had his own resolve?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We showed him what the supernatural swords could do, and I said some harsh words to him,” Shāng remembered. They had shown him what the Dark Phantom sword was capable of doing in the hands of the empire. Shāng had called Làng a blade and compared him to the Dark Phantom and other swords they’d collected. There was no malice behind them, but they were still harsh. He wanted to give him some peace of mind, but it probably just hurt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He retreated up here,” Mù continued. “I knew he lived in the area. He let it slip once. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>where </span>
  </em>
  <span>was the question. I found him here, singing his heart out with not a soul to listen to his words. It was a powerful song that day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She walked towards the overhang where the fire pit stood covered in snow and icicles. Mù still recalled that day quite clearly. “I came to say my peace. I wasn’t even sure he’d listen, but he did. If I hadn’t come, I wonder if he would’ve simply resolved to die up here in the cold much as Líng Yá had said.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He wouldn’t have fallen off the bridge,” Shāng frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bù Huàn…” Mù could still see the pain written on his face. He blamed himself for Làng’s death, and there was little she could say otherwise. It wasn’t his fault, though. He made a bad call, but he did what he thought was right. Mù was just as much to blame as she didn’t see the seal guardian’s attack coming either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù pulled the guqin from her back, pulling the notes of a tune that Làng had taught her, the one his mother had written. “He came to visit me so many times when he was still singing for the taverns. It was those times where he looked happy. He came to life, his eyes no longer holding that sadness. But as soon as he left, that sadness always returned.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng had heard her tell this before. When they had to leave, he had begun to wonder what became of Làng. The few times she’d returned to the pagoda, she didn’t encounter him under the moonlight night sky. Finding him in the palace was quite the surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could always feel it, the pain in his soul crying out to be heard, that desire to be something greater than what he only had ever known,” Mù continued. “He was miserable with that life. Even if I hadn’t come to speak to him, I don’t think he would’ve stayed up here. I think eventually he would’ve found his way with us, with the only friends he’d ever known.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng sat down next to her, listening to the tune and her words. He had seen that pain in Làng’s face when Xiào Kuáng Juàn demanded he return to the palace. Làng was the empire’s property, and he didn’t like it. When he didn’t return as Xiào had demanded, they took Làng with them. He was a good person, able to see through the lies he was told.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually Làng joined them. Willingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng played it over and over again in his mind. They were fighting Xiào Kuáng Juàn’s army as the old man created the Index for him. That was when Làng showed up in a flurry of orange and white. He’d made a choice, he found something for himself. Shāng questioned if he was okay with the decision. Làng said he would have it no other way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at the pipa in his arms. That was when Líng Yá awoke and Làng had taken on a new appearance of his own choosing. But even more, Shāng had gained a new friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now that friend was gone only two years later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù finished plucking the last notes, looking out into the snowy mountains. She recalled that song so clearly when he sang it. His mother had taught it to him, but there was so much more than words in that song. He sang from deep within his soul, his feelings coming out through his supernatural voice. He did have a tendency to speak in song, even if he wouldn’t admit to it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought we should return here to where it all began,” Mù said. “Where he first grew up, where he returned when he thought he should be alone, where he made his decision to come with us. A fitting place for a memorial, even if only we know it’s here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng peered out at the mountains as well. There was nothing nearby. No towns, no shrines, nothing. They passed no one along the way. There wasn’t even a pathway leading up the mountainside. He wasn’t certain how Mù had remembered where it was with no visible landmarks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood up, pulling the scrap of Làng’s sleeve from his pocket and tying it around the pipa’s neck. He set Líng Yá down next to the small house just under the roof’s overhang. “I could feel him angry at me as we left that shrine. He knew something was coming and I just wouldn’t listen. He was so insistent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think he would blame you for what happened,” Mù said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared down at Líng Yá with the fabric scrap tied around his neck. “Would he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Líng Yá would have some remark about how Wū Yáo really just wanted to protect us and was upset about not being able to do so,” Mù Mùsed. “Then Wū Yáo would quickly shut him up by violently plucking the strings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng cracked a smile for the first time. “That would happen, wouldn’t it?” But it didn’t. That small smile quickly faded. If only that cliffside hadn’t been so steep, they could’ve gotten to him before he’d fallen a second time. Perhaps he would’ve even jumped down after Làng. The thought had crossed his mind, but he’d been too horrified at the moment to properly act. That probably wasn’t any better of an option either, given that sheer cliffside underneath the bridge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both probably would die in that case and then Mù would be the one mourning two people instead of just one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced at her. She was trying to hold back the emotions as much as he was. She had known him longer. She was his first friend, the only person he’d actually opened up to. They had spent so much time by that river, singing together and playing music.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stared in silence for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bù Huàn.” Mù finally spoke. “I think we should rest. We need to heal, we need to handle everything that has happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked up at the hut. It was the only shelter in this cold as the sun began to set. Làng had grown up here, enduring whatever it was that shaped him into the refined blade they called their friend. It felt strange to intrude on this house, but it had been abandoned, now standing as a memorial to someone dear to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And after that, I think we should continue our work,” Mù added. “It’s the only right thing to do. We need to complete the Index in his memory.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng pursed his lips together. She wasn’t wrong. They had started this to protect Xī Yōu against the supernatural swords. Làng had been dragged into the mix in the middle of the battle, set on helping them complete the Index. It was his choice, his resolve. He knew what he was doing, perhaps for the first time in his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, he would continue on in Làng’s memory. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> the only right thing to do.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It seems that Xiao’s plan is working so far, doesn’t it? Shang blames himself for what he thinks is Lang’s death, but so does Mu. Mu would usually be the more emotional but she’s trying to keep it together since Shang is really not doing so hot in that department. I mean, can you blame him though? He thinks his own decision caused Lang’s death.</p>
<p>The idea of Shang’s reaction honestly came from Season 2 when Lang and Shang have a bit of a fight over dealing with Di Kong. There’s a brief pause where they don’t say anything and Lang eventually storms off. What if something happened because of a disagreement about someone’s intent in their past? And that in the present, this sort of event made Shang hesitate just the slightest? Well, time to agonize about Lang’s supposed death.</p>
<p>I wonder how this will all play out.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Dumplings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The palace honestly has too much food</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Làng Wū Yáo was definitely certain he couldn’t eat this much. After every performance, he was offered enough food to feed him for a week. It felt like such a waste every time. Dumplings, noodles, rice, roasted chicken, his favorite roasted tilapia, an entire pot of green tea. The performances did require a lot of qi and movement to stay alive, and they were rather frequent, but there was still too much food. He didn’t like the notion of wasted food, having to eat whatever he could when performing for the taverns. The palace was never short on food, but he still never wanted to waste it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A month had passed since he’d been returned to the palace. The songbird’s life was starting to feel normal again. Singing, performances, lots of food, getting pushed uncomfortably into the wall when Cháo Fēng wanted to remind him that he shouldn’t leave. Every so often, a new hair ornament would show up on the dresser. Each one was always decorated by some kind of bird or flower. He really didn’t need that many.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He downed the last of the tea, staring at the dumplings still warm in the bowl. Standing up, he slung the white pipa over his shoulder and wrapped two dumplings into cloth. Sliding open the door, he spotted the two familiar guards that stood near his doorway at night. Wěi, the shorter, heavyset guard, and Fāng, the tall stringbean. They were the first ones to talk to him when he returned and the only ones who seemed to acknowledge him beyond a title. They stood impossibly still at the end of the hallway as usual. He handed each a dumpling before leaning against the wall with the white pipa in hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d come to know the pair as they often stood near his door gossipping. It was usually chatter about who was visiting that day or what was going on inside town. It was Làng’s only connection with the outside world. There was still a part of him that longed for whatever was missing, but each time he thought about it, all he found was pain. That two year gap was nothing but trouble and that Shāng Bù Huàn was to blame for all of this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right...?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had to admit part of him was curious about Shāng Bù Huàn, but any question he asked was always answered with “Villain!” and “He’s absolutely horrible!” It didn’t tell him anything. The last time he’d even come close to asking the princess, she diverted by insisting he play a song or shoving more food at him that he couldn’t actually eat. Perhaps it was best to abandon the questions as they seemed to get absolutely nowhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something’s on your mind again, isn’t it?” Wěi questioned between bites.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t like food to go to waste,” Làng evaded the question. The answer was always the same when he handed the pair something from his own dinner table. He always ate alone, staring at the excessive amount of food and ignoring the feeling that someone was trying to talk to him. That silent voice needed to go away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hated being alone before as the voice would try to talk to him, but now it just felt lonely. Perhaps he still missed the time he spent with Mù Tiān Mìng when he was still employed by the taverns. But she was working with Shāng Bù Huàn, wasn’t she? That was what the princess told him. He never felt any malice from her, and she was easily the only friend he’d ever had. Could she really be evil?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two guards didn’t quite fall into the friend category, though they certainly didn’t fall into the malice category either. They had shown him kindness, but it always felt slightly shallow. Làng held a high position as the Court Virtuoso, and the guards were told to respect that position highly else face Cháo Fēng’s wrath. He didn’t have any royal blood in him, though he was convinced that would be tainted with evil. He never felt like he was anything important either, just a sharpened blade with a cursed supernatural voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps he could ask the pair that stood faithfully at his door something, but he never felt like he could open up, not like he could with Mù. There was so much still rattling around in his mind, so much confusion about Shāng Bù Huàn and the missing two years of his life. They probably haven’t heard much more than the others. The pair went into town every so often, but all they seemed to do was eat at the local tavern and check out women.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He plucked a few notes of the white pipa, the strings still not feeling natural on his fingers. He wanted the red one back, the one that always felt like it played the perfect note.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Has…” Làng stared at the white pipa. If he asked, would it come back to the princess? Perhaps it was best to stay silent and come to terms with never getting his precious pipa back. “Nevermind. It’s nothing.” He pushed off the wall, slinging the pipa back on his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi frowned. “Well we’ll be here all night if you change your mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stopped a few steps down the hallway, pausing for a moment before turning and coming back. Perhaps he could ask. They were the only people actually kind to him in this cage. “Between us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely,” Fāng nodded. “No one has to know anything about our conversation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Has…” Làng paused a moment. No one else was around, no other prying ears. Aside from the crickets, no other sounds rang out in the early night hours. No footsteps, no idle conversations, no guards shifting their weight nearby. “Has there been any sign of Shāng Bù Huàn?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi nearly choked on the last of his dumpling. “T-that villain?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng frowned. That was about the answer he expected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not concerned he’ll come after you, are you?” Fāng questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now there was the answer Làng </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> expect.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean you are technically a supernatural blade and all, or so I hear,” Fāng stumbled over his words. “A-and there are rumors he was somehow related to your disappearance. And well that villain likes to steal them, so---”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fāng!” Wěi punched him in the arm. “The Court Virtuoso is a person, not a sword.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is not wrong,” Làng confirmed. “I am the princess’s supernatural blade. I am her property.” Shāng had stolen him before because of this, to take everything away from him. But a person couldn’t be sealed inside the Sorcerous Sword Index, so the villain had discarded him off a cliff instead. Or so Làng had been repeatedly told to a point he was starting to believe it true. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi pursed his lips. He didn’t like the idea that the Virtuoso was property. He was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>person</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stared at the white pipa in his hands. “Shāng Bù Huàn. I am told he stole something of mine, a red pipa I want returned.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He stole your </span>
  <em>
    <span>pipa</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Fāng questioned. “Was it supernatural?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng shook his head. “Just an old, worn red pipa. I have had it for so long, and it never failed to play the perfect notes. Always finely tuned and never stiff like this one.” Even after a month, the white pipa just didn’t feel right in his hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t think he’d stoop so low as to steal a pipa,” Wěi frowned. “The crimes that man has committed are just getting worse and worse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hear he stole a person once!” Fāng exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How does anyone steal a </span>
  <em>
    <span>person</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Wěi stared at him incredulously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fairly easily, apparently</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Làng thought to himself. The truth about his disappearance hadn’t really spread around the guard yet, and Làng wasn’t one to speak of it anyway. He didn’t really understand it. There were simply too many scrambled pieces of information that seemed more mixed up than the thoughts in his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who knows, but if anyone would do it, it’s that villain!” Fāng insisted. “And if someone stoops low enough to steal someone’s pipa, then what stops him from stealing a person?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng knew that happened to him. At the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi frowned. “Well I suppose you have a point there. Regardless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Regardless,” Fāng turned back to Làng. “There’s been nothing about that villain lately. Not a peep. It’s likely he’s not even in the area. But we’ll keep an ear out for you and let you know what we hear. If anything, I bet Xiào Kuáng Juàn can get it back from that villain. He’ll stop Shāng Bù Huàn if he ever shows up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something told Làng that wasn’t necessarily going to play out that way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If we hear anything about your pipa, we’ll let you know right away,” Wěi nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” If there was any chance of getting it back, Làng wanted to take it. “If you would… Could you have more tea sent to my room? There is still too much food, but tea would be nice.” He considered speaking to Xiào concerning the matter, but Làng didn’t necessarily like conversing with that man. He was sneaky and conniving, hiding something at every moment of the day. He didn’t trust the sneaky fox to actually be willing to retrieve it for him unless there was some kind of gain. He’d already walked over Làng to get his position and wasn’t afraid to admit it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey you two, get back to work!” a higher ranking guard fussed. Wěi and Fāng quickly tensed up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was my fault,” Làng admitted. “I simply wanted to know if they had seen any signs of my red pipa on their last trip outside. I’ll be on my way.” He left out the questions about Shāng Bù Huàn. He didn’t need it getting out that he still asked about that villain again. Perhaps this would be the last time he did. It seemed hopeless that he’d ever get that pipa back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps he would give Shāng a piece of his mind if he ever encountered that man. Hopefully not. Làng could certainly hold his own in a fight, but against a man who could strike him with a sorcerous blade then throw him off a cliff? He’d probably be pushing his luck a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hardly a problem, Court Virtuoso,” the higher ranking guard stepped to the side as Làng passed him. “If there’s anything we can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine.” Something about him just irked Làng. There was evil in his heart, the type that would probably beat his subordinates if that meant a higher promotion. Just the sort to completely idolize Xiào as much of the people here did. That arrogance in his steps, the air of superiority that laced his words even when shallowly showing respect to Làng’s position.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what could Làng truly do? He belonged to Princess Evil herself. Everyone else aside from Xiào seemed to pale in comparison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be in the zen garden if the princess demands my presence.” Perhaps he could play there for a bit and not think of things like Shāng Bù Huàn and the evil that permeated the palace grounds.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Poor Lang. He’s really struggling with this memory gap, even as the sword’s truth becomes his own.</p>
<p>Meaning of the guard names:<br/>Wěi – big/great<br/>Fāng – virtue</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Mountain Gale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's time to return to the place where it all went wrong, but is a month too soon?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It had been over a month since they had last been here. The Storm Seal Shrine, the place where everything went wrong. Shāng Bù Huàn wasn’t certain he was ready to approach the place after the seal guardian killed Làng. There was too much pain still left in his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still no signs of imperial activity,” Mù Tiān Mìng observed. “And the place is still standing. Something is going on here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng attempted to focus on the task at hand. He was doing this to continue in Làng’s memory, to complete the Index as they all had intended to do. No sword should be left for the imperials or Huò Shì Míng Huáng to do more harm. One singular seal guardian had already done enough. “Part of me is wondering if she was collaborating with them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Collaborating?” Mù questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think about it,” Shāng painfully recalled the encounter. “She knew about the ‘Sword-plundering Nemesis’ and for such a remote location, someone had to have told her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Xiào Kuáng Juàn,” Mù frowned. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. The locals did say that an imperial who appeared high ranking was traveling up the mountainside. What if that seal guardian struck a deal with him purposely to separate us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And to kill Làng,” Shāng frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Focus, Bù Huàn,” Mù grasped his shoulders. “We cannot change what has happened, only work towards the future we all wanted. And if this shrine is collaborating with the empire, all the more reason to seal the Mountain Gale within the Index.” She peered at him, noticing him staring at the wall. “Wait here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He snagged her by the sleeve, shaking his head. “I’m fine. We’ll do this together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They leapt up onto the walls, sneaking by the guard standing by the doorway. Quietly they crept along the walls before leaping into the lower roof of the large shrine at the end. Finding an open window, they crept inside. Avoiding as much conflict as possible was always best when dealing with seal shrines, but it wasn’t often that they went </span>
  <em>
    <span>into </span>
  </em>
  <span>a seal shrine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shrines had existed since the War of Fading Dusk, built around relics of the war. But there was a problem with that. They were relics. No one actually knew if they had a real or a fake. The even bigger problem was that the empire sought to control the shrines and the relics within, real or not. They knew that the relic guardian Lián Měi had in her possession was real. But like any relic, they were usually returned to one spot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The building inside wasn’t well guarded, but it was also locked on the outside. The chances of someone sneaking through the window was rather unlikely. The remote location and the dangerous cliffs also served as a perfect defense for a powerful relic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quietly they descended the stairs, finding a typical sword shrine located on the first floor. Talismans were plastered about with various ropes tied with more spell papers. A silver staff-like sword stood in the middle of the pedestal. It resembled the broom that Lián Měi had wielded before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù stepped forward, cautiously feeling for any sort of barrier. None. But after the seal guardian had removed it, perhaps there was no need. She reached forward, grasping the broom-sword and pulling it out. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The handle had been painted silver. It was an ordinary broom. They had been fooled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A massive gust of wind barreled down the hallway, throwing Shāng and Mù through the door and out into the courtyard. They landed in the courtyard, drawing their weaponry as broken boards from the walls and the fake Mountain Gale clattered to the ground around them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The seal guardian stood at the top of the stairs in the broken doorway, brandishing the silver broom. She scoffed. “You were supposed to be taken care of. It’s a good thing the Lián Clan is always prepared to defend our sacred relic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù scowled. “It sure sounds like she struck a deal with the imperials, doesn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng shook his head. “Why would a seal guardian strike such a risky deal with the empire? They’ll just turn around and stab you in the back!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do not assume my reasons!” Lián Měi hissed. She had to protect this shrine, and she would do anything to accomplish that. No second-rate thief was going to threaten this shrine or its relic. She’d have to take care of them herself, since that imperial seemed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>incapable </span>
  </em>
  <span>of handling them. If she could take out one, she could take out the others. “Lián Style: Seven Gales!” Spell circles spread out behind her, firing off razor sharp cuts of wind at the pair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng leapt backwards, avoiding the winds as he landed a bit further away. He drew his wooden blade, the qi blasting behind it and throwing the approaching guard further back. “Leave it to a guardian family to have a strong technique.” He didn’t like the idea of fighting in a shrine. The seal guardians were supposed to be protecting Xī Yōu in case of another demon invasion, but here one was, likely working with the empire with deadly force.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leapt out of the way, avoiding another burst of winds. He couldn’t tell how much was Lián Měi’s own abilities and how much was fueled by the mystical sword in her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There is evil in her heart, Shāng.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could just hear Làng’s words echo through his head, the words he had chosen not to follow. They were the last words that Làng had spoken to him. Làng knew that Lián Měi was up to something and he simply wasn’t listening to it. And now faced with the seal guardian who took his life, he should’ve been angry. He should’ve unleashed everything he had, but he just felt guilty. Everything just hurt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bù Huàn!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù’s words stirred him from his thoughts. The fight was still raging on as Mù fired off a number of distance attacks with the guqin. He shook his head. He had to get that sword back and seal it in the Index. He couldn’t let anyone else die at its hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sheathing his sword, he dodged another wind attack and rolled over towards the shattered wood panels and discarded broom. Plucking the broken broom from the ground, he jammed it downward and rose the broken wood into the air. One by one, he fired them off with qi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lián Měi rolled out of the way, dodging most of the planks until the last one caught her through the sleeve and pinned her to the wall. So this was the power that Xiào Kuáng Juàn had mentioned. He could’ve easily taken her before at that bridge, but the loss of that red musician must’ve shocked him too much at the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hand over the sword, Lián Měi,” Shāng demanded. “Then we’ll be on our way. That’s all we want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulled at her sleeve, ripping it where the board had speared it. Anything to protect this sword and the shrine. “I don’t think so! I’ll have you killed like that red friend of yours!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù scowled. That was a low blow, but she really didn’t expect much from a seal guardian that would willingly collaborate with the empire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng felt the pain of Làng’s loss stab him right through the heart. If only he had listened to Làng’s judgment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll wash you away from this world!” Lián Měi leapt upwards onto the main building, landing on the roof and raising the Mountain Gale above her head. “Prepare yourself for the Lián clan’s ultimate technique! Lián Style: Summer Storms!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The skies darkened as Lián Měi rose the Mountain Gale into the sky. She slashed downward, a massive burst of wind following her movements.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng and Mù leapt apart as the wind burst downward, shattering the walls in their path. The winds hardly let up, firing off again and again. Rain pelted the ground, impaling the stone tiles like sharpened daggers. Mù glared up at the seal guardian who was willing to take down the entire shrine just to kill them. This was going </span>
  <em>
    <span>well</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù flung several sonic attacks into the sky with the guqin. If she could just reach that guardian, she could stop this before the whole place fell off the cliff. She dodged another wind attack, not noticing the second following behind it soon enough. It cut through the guqin, slicing the strings and part of the front. It would’ve taken off her arm had she not moved in the last moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bù Huàn! We need to retreat!” she shouted at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng glanced over at her, noticing the broken guqin. This was becoming deadly and he didn’t want to lose anyone else. There must be some means to retrieve that sword with just the two of them. They had retrieved stronger. But now wasn’t the time, not with that attack and down one weapon and neither in the right state of mind. “Agreed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quickly the pair fled over the wall, dodging clay roof tiles and trees as they were knocked over in the wind, nearly tumbling down the hillside. Mù glanced over her shoulder, noticing that the winds had died down. “That went </span>
  <em>
    <span>well</span>
  </em>
  <span>. At least she’s not following us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng pursed his lips, staring at the ground. He’d hesitated and it nearly cost them everything. Just like before. Just like the day Làng died. There was still guilt panging at his heart, and this place was nothing short of a nasty reminder of everything that went wrong a month ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was far too early to return here,” Mù admitted, frowning at the sorry state of her guqin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I messed up,” Shāng said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As did I,” Mù agreed. “When have I ever had my guqin broken in a fight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never,” Shāng shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly,” Mù confirmed. “It’s too early for both of us to return here. There are too many painful memories, and Lián Měi is more adept at using that blade than we expected. And while it’s clear she’s collaborating with the empire, it would take a lot of work or cunning to take that thing from her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right,” he nodded. “It should be safe here for now, and she doesn’t seem the type to willingly hand the Mountain Gale over to the empire. Let’s change our plans and pursue another. It’s only a matter of time before the empire tries to use another.” They couldn’t give up this quest. They had to continue for Xī Yōu and for Làng.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This whole thing is just going so well, isn’t it?</p>
<p>I figured that guardian clans likely would have their own styles much like Dan Fei does. Lian Mei’s are all related to storms and water.  Her name means Beautiful Waterfall so I named the shrine and the sword to match her name.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Red and white</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Seeing red has stained the bird's white robes, and he honestly just wants a quiet garden</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Another night, another pile of imperial bodies at his feet as Làng Wū Yáo finished his song. The applause that followed felt shallow as usual, but he was fulfilling his purpose as the Court Virtuoso. It was the only thing someone and something like him could ever hope to accomplish, the only place his voice could be protected. So many times, his mother had told him he could reach the courts with his voice. And now he had. He wondered what his mother would think of him now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But something still felt off. Could he be something more than just a sorcerous blade?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushed the feeling aside as Cháo Fēng crashed into him. He didn’t object when she rubbed her face into his robes, but he wanted to sink through the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she rubbed up against him, Làng felt something darker than usual in her eyes. She was angry with him somehow despite the perfect performance with the requested song.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She grabbed him by the sleeve as the guests filtered out, dragging him off the platform into the back room. She slammed him against the wall, grabbing a teacup off the table and striking him with it suddenly. “It’s a good thing your performances are divine, else I’d be truly mad that you’re asking about that horrible man again! Qiáng said he heard you asking a few days ago! Do you want to cause yourself pain in thinking about what happened to you?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He placed a hand on his face where the cup had struck him, feeling the blood begin to seep through the cut. It hadn’t been Wěi or Fāng that mentioned something. That was last night and he hadn’t seen that superficial all-too-willing-to-please Qiáng for a few days. He was getting hit for a question from a few days ago, not that she’d ever hit him before. Even upset, she just rubbed her face in his robes and made him want to sink through the wall. This time, he wanted to sink through the wall for a different reason “I’m sorry. I just wanted to know where my red pipa was, but it seems lost forever. I won’t ask again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is with you and that red pipa?!” she hit him with the teacup again, unrelentingly,  several more times until he took to his knees and curled up. He was still trying to reach out for anything within that memory gap, and there was no way she’d let her songbird leave her again. She would ensure he would never ask again. “Is the white one not good enough?! I had that specially made from the best craftsman in all of Xī Yōu!” She didn’t want him to become that red bard ever again, and her temper was getting the better of her. All she could think about was how he’d betrayed her, how he’d become that horrible monster instead of her beautiful songbird.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It belonged to my mother!” The words spilled from his lips uncontrollably. He was usually so hesitant to even mention anything about himself, but something kept telling him to get that red pipa back. It wasn’t just the connection to his past. He felt like it would answer questions about the two year gap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He honestly didn’t want to think of the gap and of Shāng Bù Huàn. He wanted to forget about it more than he’d already forgotten. All the horrors he must’ve committed with his voice in the hands of that villain, things that would get him killed if he were anyone but the princess’s property. Yet something always scratched at the back of his mind like an unreachable itch. Something kept telling him that everything wasn’t right, just like there was something or someone trying to call out to them. He wanted to forget them both, but at the same time, he just couldn’t let it go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cháo Fēng stopped with her hand poised above him, her anger suddenly melting away. It wasn’t a memory he was seeking but a memento. She’d never once heard him speak of his origins, not that she had ever cared to ask. All she knew was that he was a commoner that Xiào Kuáng Juàn had found entrancing drunks in a tavern. They got high off his voice, and she wanted that sort of power for herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there was more she knew. Xiào had detailed how the red pipa had transformed when Làng betrayed her and became that red bard that traveled with that horrible villain. She couldn’t under any circumstances let that red pipa get back to him, else he could start trying to remember, even if Làng was seeking it as a memory of something before the two year gap. Xiào promised the Resonant Memory’s spell was unbreakable, but she wasn’t about to take any chances.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She set the teacup back down on the table. “That horrible Shāng Bù Huàn has taken it from you,” Cháo Fēng pushed him back up to his feet. “Another of his prizes he’s taken from us. What a terrible man!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng was expecting to be struck again, but he wasn’t. Something scratched at the back of his mind, a silent voice he was choosing to ignore as he stared at her with worry knit into his brow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will make sure he </span>
  <em>
    <span>suffers</span>
  </em>
  <span> for what he has done!” she added. Oh how that Sword-plundering Nemesis must be suffering already. Xiào had detailed to her the work he put into this plan, and she was delighted with how much pain it must cause that horrible Shāng Bù Huàn. She wanted to delight in his pain, but right now, it was best to ensure that Làng would know nothing of what really happened a month ago. She would ensure her songbird was forever hers, trapped in a cage of her own design. There was no way he’d ever betray her again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She frowned at the blood and tea now dying his white robes. She reached up, rubbing the blood off his cheek as he winced and tried to shrink away from her. “I hope you’ll forgive me for my temper. I just couldn’t stand the thought of you going after Shāng Bu Huan to get it back. Go clean up, my dear precious songbird. And leave the punishing of that horrible villain to me, okay?” She shoved him out the door. “I’ll be sure to protect you from the greatest villain in all of Xī Yōu.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… um…” He stared down at his robes. They were a mess. His shoulders were stained in tea, laced with blood from his face. The bottom of his robe was dirty from the fight, caked in dust and small specks of blood. He placed a hand on his face, feeling it start to swell. It felt like ages since he’d been struck, not since his mother would hit him with the switch so he’d learn the notes perfectly. “I’ll… go clean up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly ducked down the hallway towards his room. Fāng and Wěi nodded slightly in acknowledgement as he passed by. The pair hadn’t said anything about the conversation the night before, thankfully, as that might’ve resulted in more than a teacup to the face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tossed the robes aside, pulling a simple white one out to replace it. His face had finally stopped bleeding, now sporting a bit of a gash and a puffy bruise to match. Perhaps he should’ve kept his mouth shut, but something still screamed at him deep inside, something crying to be heard. He still wasn’t sure if it was some lingering effect of what Shāng had done to him or something that was supposed to be there. He couldn’t recall feeling this before the two year memory gap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng frowned at his reflection as he rubbed the dried blood from his face. Was it always like this? Was he always meant to be miserable and endure this sort of life to protect his voice? Or had he somehow truly found happiness during those missing two years?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head. Where were these thoughts coming from? It was better like this. He wouldn’t be used for evil schemes ever again. He had to clear his mind. Grasping the soiled robe, he stepped out the door, finding Wěi and Fāng gossipping about how they thought one of the guests was beautiful again. “If you could, could you have this repaired or replaced before the next performance?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi took the offered robe, glancing between the bloodstains and the fresh wound on Làng’s face. That wasn’t from a battle. Everyone knew the princess had a temper, but no one ever spoke of it. The Virtuoso always seemed immune from her temper but today something had happened to change that. Làng didn’t look like he wanted to talk about it, busying himself with staring blankly down the hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi frowned in worry. He wanted to say something to console Làng, but what could he even say? Perhaps he could bring him some extra tea tonight. “We’ll take care of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leave it to us, no problem!” Fāng confirmed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you. I’ll be in the gardens.” When he wasn’t bound with obligations, Làng had free reign of nearly the entire palace. His presence generally wasn’t questioned and was a common sight around the gardens. He often kept to the zen garden as it was perhaps the only place where he felt at ease and people left him alone, but this time he ventured just a bit further as the night hours began to settle in. He wanted a spot away from everyone, a place to clear his mind. He had to forget everything about what had happened to him and any hopes that he had of retrieving his precious red pipa ever again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t set foot in the rear courtyard before, though tonight he hoped to find it was empty. Sadly he was disappointed. It was an extensive courtyard with no one around except in one very specific location. There were far too many guards standing in front of a pagoda-like structure on the far end. Everything about that place seemed suspicious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unfortunately we’ll have to turn even you away, Court Virtuoso,” the guard informed him as he approached just slightly. “Only Her Majesty is permitted inside.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well that screamed suspicious, but the princess did have her sanctuaries. “I was searching for a quiet location. What is this place?” Làng questioned. He peered inside. It didn’t exactly seem very special by any definition.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This place once housed a sacred sword left over from the War of Fading Dusk,” the guard replied, “but it had since been moved when that villain Shāng Bù Huàn started stealing sacred swords.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng frowned. It was a sword’s cage, a place where it was heavily guarded and unable to leave. Figuratively of course. He himself was probably the only living sword that had ever come through the palace grounds, but in a way, he could relate. Perhaps he wasn’t supposed to be here at this strange pagoda. He’d already been beaten for asking about Shāng Bù Huàn once today. He didn’t need to have the other side of his face swell up as well. “I see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t concern yourself with Shāng Bù Huàn, Court Virtuoso,” the guard added without any invitation. “While a sacred sword may be stored here once in a while, there is no way that villain will ever make it inside.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng nodded, but he wasn’t so sure. If he could take several of them down while singing and Shāng could take Làng down, what was there to actually stop Shāng? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s right!” another guard chimed in. “And even if he managed to make it past the walls, Xiào Kuáng Juàn would absolutely take him down!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hear that Xiào Kuáng Juàn had crossed swords with him and that villain was forced to retreat. I bet if he ever dared cross into the palace, he would never leave,” a third guard added assuredly. “Thrown behind bars, unable to spread villainy across the country.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng was never happy with how much the guard here tended to follow Xiào in absolute idolatry. He found the man to be conniving to the core. Everything about him sent Làng’s senses into a knot. He hated how Xiào put a hand on his shoulder or seemed to watch him when he was playing in the zen garden. It was almost as if Xiào was keeping an eye on him, not for Làng’s sake, but something else. He hadn’t quite figured it out yet, but even if he did, it wasn’t his place to challenge Xiào and his intentions anyway. That always ended up with getting jabbed in the shoulder by a fan or insulted. It was easier just to keep his mouth shut.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By the way, Virtuoso,” the first guard added. “I hear you are fond of playing in gardens. Have you seen the west gardens? The plum blossoms are in full bloom right now. There’s rarely anyone in there at night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds nice and quiet, the perfect place I am seeking.” Làng offered a polite bow, leaving the strange sword sanctuary behind. What a weird thing to have in the palace, but it wasn’t the first time he’d supposedly encountered them. At least that was what he’d been told. When he was stolen, Shāng had come into the other palace in search of a sword. He must’ve encountered Shāng at that point, finding himself struck with a sword before the guards could ever find him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What had honestly led to that? Why would Làng even </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a place like that alone? It didn’t make sense, but anything surrounding missing time never did. There were so many questions in his mind, and any attempt to find an answer seemed to result in getting hit by dinnerware.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rubbed at his swollen face. These sorts of thoughts just didn’t suit him, and he found himself forcefully shoving them from his mind. He had to stop thinking about what happened and forget ever remembering what lay in that missing two year gap. The forgotten memories should stay just that. Forgotten. He shouldn’t be thinking this way at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was a blade and nothing more. That was what it was supposed to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared up at the plum blossoms swaying in the breeze. That guard was right. They were beautiful.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lang really has had a bad day. Chao had finally lost her temper at him, all because he wanted something important to him. Perhaps somehow he’ll learn what has become of the pipa. Perhaps not.</p>
<p>And I wonder about that strange sanctuary. Quite a curious place, is it not?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Imperial targets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Two months have passed since the fateful day and the sword-hunting continues</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mù Tiān Mìng brushed the rough sandpaper across the side of the guqin’s repaired patches. Supplies had become scarce in the area with rumors of an attack on the Storm Seal Shrine spreading further downhill. The empire’s work, no doubt, as the shrine was too remote for someone to catch sight of the unfortunate battle. It wouldn’t be the first time they tried to force her and Shāng into a corner and try to catch them, but they weren’t going to let that hinder their work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They fled the towns, taking sanctuary up in the nearby dense forest. Nearly a month had passed since the shrine battle until they started hearing of swords in the area again. Two of them, and Shāng Bù Huàn had gone to pursue the closest, the one with the more useful information. Mù was still concerned about the pain in both their hearts, but Shāng seemed to finally be healing. His focus, his channeling qi, his words had all spoken of this. They were finally coming to terms with their loss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng landed at their campsite, pulling his hat off and dropping it on the pile of furs. He set a wrapped bundle on the ground, pulling the cloth back to reveal a small highly ornate dagger. “This went better than expected.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Better than the last time</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he added to himself, but most things went better than the disastrous encounter at the Storm Seal Shrine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù peered over at the dagger. “For a blade that can conjure hailstorms, I expected something bigger..”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng nodded in agreement. “This small sword practically buried a town in hail thanks to that imperial. He didn’t exactly seem adept at using it beyond creating hail. Taking it from him seemed almost too easy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still no signs of the Hunting Fox?” Mù questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng shook his head. “None. I’m starting to wonder if he’s off somewhere else after something worse. Huò Shì Míng Huáng perhaps, but we’ve stolen much of the empire’s attention away from him and his assassins.” He pulled the brush from his sleeve, drawing the magical symbols in the air to convert the troublesome dagger into ink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The rumors haven’t said anything about the Hunting Fox either,” Mù sighed. She watched him conjure the Index, dropping the sword onto the magical papers. “I heard some rumors though, something of interest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The second sword’s location?” Shāng tucked the brush back into his sleeve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes and no,” Mù replied.  “The crown princess Cháo Fēng has a summer palace in the area, one of many it seems. Lately she’s been having a number of parties with music.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng frowned as he rolled up the Index. “Another poor musician caught by her sadism.” He felt numb at the thought. Làng had been one of those poor musicians, shoved into the position and only keeping it as he was well adept at combat and singing. He rubbed at his face. He had to accept that no amount of wishing that musician was Làng would make it true.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The information gets fuzzy there,” Mù continued. “It could be one musician, it could be many. Same with how many people attend these parties.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was reminded of the time she had battled Làng in the arena. It was surprising to find him there after not hearing from him for some time. She’d heard imperials raided the taverns where he worked, and he was taken away with them. To find him there was a relief to know he was alive but also unfortunate that he was placed in such a position. Two years ago, that set everything in motion, eventually leading Làng to join them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She frowned. What would’ve happened if she hadn’t been there that day?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng finished rolling up the Index, flicking it into the other dimension with the quick spell. He huffed, settling down near the fire. He was trying not to think of the musicians and of Làng. He had to remind himself that nothing could change the past, nothing could correct that mistake two months ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù returned to the guqin’s repairs. “I happened across another rumor while purchasing guqin strings. Supposedly one of the guests brought a strange sword as a gift for the princess. They called it the Resonant Memory.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As a gift?” Shāng questioned the story.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù nodded. “It came from the imperial guards gossipping with one another.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng thought about the name for a moment. “If I recall, that’s one of the swords we couldn’t pinpoint. None of the seal shrines seemed to have it, and the rumors about it all went cold.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù nodded again. “A mystery of where it went after the War of Fading Dusk. It’s a sword from the demon realm, but beyond that, we never did find out more about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s all the more reason to not leave it in imperial hands,” Shāng said. “But we don’t want to rush this at all. This is an imperial palace. We can’t just create a distraction this time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù shook her head. “No signs issuing a challenge to any musician who could take down the Court Virtuoso, not that I would expect the same trick would work twice. They’ve seen my face and know that I’m working with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that you’d be challenging Làng either,” Shāng sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù frowned, staring at the coiled guqin strings on the ground. “He’s not coming back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Shāng frowned, gripping his robe a bit. As much as he wanted it, it never would be true. There probably were sorcerous swords that could raise someone from the dead, but necromancy was a dangerous art. Làng wouldn’t return as he once was. No matter how much he regretted Làng’s death, there was no way he would put his friend through something like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù returned to sanding the side of the guqin. The sound grated against the uncomfortable silence. She was trying not to let her heart twist into a knot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng interrupted the silence first. “How are the repairs?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nearly done,” Mù replied. “The location of the damage made this more difficult, but at least the guqin wasn’t completely destroyed.” Replacing the instrument simply wasn’t an option. An ordinary guqin wasn’t made for combat. One was hard enough to hit someone but it wasn’t capable of transforming into a blade. She could use any stringed instrument to create sonic attacks, but that blade worked well for her in close combat. “Still not ready for combat, though. That will take a bit of time to ensure that it will handle physical damage and transformation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knit his hands together, watching her sand the side of the guqin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She paused, glancing back at him. He tried to hide it, but she could see the pain still written on his face. “We can leave the palace sword until later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of leaving a sorcerous blade with a mysterious power in the hands of a palace. It could easily be handed off to the emperor and used for who knows what terrible thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù couldn’t disagree with the notion. The empire likely also didn’t know what it could do, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>experiment </span>
  </em>
  <span>with it. They had plenty of soldiers who would willingly die for the empire. They could even be testing it on musicians. Once they figured out what it could do, they could use it to commit more war crimes against their own people. The sword could affect memories or it could flatten a mountain for all they knew. “We can’t rush this, especially since it’s a palace where the princess currently is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Definitely not,” Shāng agreed. “It’s not just some imperial throwing his life away at a town. It is a stronghold. We need some sort of plan or information.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With the most recent party being last night, I’d imagine they still have a lot of guards floating around,” Mù informed him. “And with my guqin not up to fighting standards, just the numbers could cause problems.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng could certainly handle quite a few on his own, but an entire palace full of guards could wear him down. He was rather reckless with his qi in battle, and he couldn’t risk falling. They would have their hands on him and the Index, their quest to protect Xī Yōu would immediately fail. “We’ll need to wait, though I’m not sure the guard will decrease. Not after the last sword from the nearby town. We’ll need information on how to find the sword in the palace and try to avoid as much contact as possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng couldn’t see another sword retrieval fail, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially</span>
  </em>
  <span> not one in the palace. The botched battle against the Mountain Gale was enough to remind him that he was still hurting inside, the guilt still wrenching his heart. But he and Mù made a promise at Làng’s mountain home. They were going to continue in his memory. They had to finish what they started and never let the Index fall into imperial hands. Shāng wasn’t going to break that promise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Getting information on the palace layouts won’t be easy,” Mù frowned, “though some of the guards have loose lips when they’ve had too much to drink. There is a particular pair, a heavy set one and a string bean, that especially like to gossip when in the presence of a pretty woman. They have mentioned there is some sort of shrine or sanctuary within the palace that is heavily guarded.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The last palace also had a shrine buried deep within the hallways,” Shāng recalled. They had some inadvertent help getting to that shrine with Làng’s singing voice pacifying the guard. Shāng couldn’t rely on that this time. There was no longer someone with a supernatural song among them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This palace apparently has a number of gardens,” Mù recalled the bits of information she’d picked up. “But beyond that, everything else is a mystery. The trees are tall, the walls are high, and the gates are always locked. I’ll do some nosing around when I’m out for supplies. We’ll find the location of this sword shrine and perhaps the best way in.” They had to play this one carefully. She wasn’t going to let this be the last sword they sought.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A sword in the palace, hmmmm. This setup seems perfect. Almost too perfect.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Painful memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It seems there might be unintended effects of this entire scheme.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>That white pipa was starting to feel a bit more natural in his hands. Only a bit. Làng Wū Yáo had surrendered the idea of ever getting the red pipa back from that villain Shāng Bù Huàn, and perhaps that made it just a little easier. He hadn’t asked about the pipa or about Shāng in over a month. He wanted to forget whatever happened to him and carry on in his life. It was better here, safe from villains who wanted to use his voice to commit evil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He picked up one of the hair ornaments on the dresser, debating between two. It didn’t honestly matter which one he wore, as the princess was ever only focused on his voice and pushing her face into him whenever she found him. She cared little about which hair ornaments he used, even if she kept having more and more placed on the dresser.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at himself in the mirror as he put the crane ornament into his hair. The teacup had left a rather sizable scar on his cheek that didn’t seem to want to go away just yet. She hadn’t hit him since, insisting that the scar looked more like a stray feather than a wound. Didn’t make it feel any better whenever he saw it in his reflection. It was the only time she’d ever struck him, and she hadn’t struck him since. It seemed that Shāng Bù Huàn was the triggering factor for the incident, and Làng simply hadn’t asked about him again. There was still a chance that Shāng could show up at the palace, given the rumors spreading around the guard that a sorcerous sword was in the palace. He didn’t want to deal with that. Perhaps he’d stick to his room and let Shāng believe he had died on that cliff.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng ran a finger through his hair to smooth it out, humming a few notes as he plucked the white pipa from its resting place. He felt like he needed some fresh air this morning, and the gardens with the fresh blooms would be a perfect place to do so. The plum trees had since shed their blooms, the cherry trees taking their place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The usual guards Wěi and Fāng were standing outside in the early morning hours as they finished up the nightly watch, gossipping as usual.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you hear?” Wěi peered over Feng.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you hear this time?” Wěi questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rumor has it that Sword-plundering Nemesis attacked a seal shrine,” Feng gossipped. “He was after another sword! Word is that he nearly took the whole shrine down himself when he tried.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Noooo,” Wěi scoffed. “There’s no way a person could do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He has, what, 300 hundred mystical swords in some magical arsenal, of course he could do that!” Fāng pointed out. “This is the same guy who would steal multiple people and the Virtuoso’s red pipa!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought it was one person,” Wěi frowned. “Are you sure about this, Fāng? If so, we should tell the Virtuoso.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should. I heard it in the city last night! I heard that the seal guardian at the shrine somehow chased him off with the sword there!” Fāng insisted. “She used the Mountain Gale something or other. Sounds kind of mystical, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure you weren’t drunk again?” Wěi frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mountain Gale. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mountain Gale</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Làng frowned. Why was that familiar? He'd barely even heard of a seal shrine aside from the rumors in the hallway, usually coming from these two and their constant gossipping. Yet somehow he knew that name and it felt like it was resonating within him. His vision was becoming clouded as a pain stabbed him through the heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng knew her name, the seal guardian who wielded the Mountain Gale. Lián Měi. He knew what she looked like, standing on the edge of a bridge brandishing a silver broom. Images of mountains flooded his mind. A mountain mist, a broken bridge, a slippery rocky ravine. Someone shouting his name. Multiple someones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hang on, Làng!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wū Yáo!!!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>LAAAAANG!!!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who were they? Why were they familiar?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dropped the white pipa on the ground as he clawed at the wall. The pain was so unbearable he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He gasped for air as he fell to the ground, curling into a ball. What were these thoughts inside his head? He couldn’t ever remember being at a place where there was mountain mist, nor could he recall the voices. He wasn’t certain why he knew the name Lián Měi. Was it the time when he was thrown from a cliff, discarded by Shāng Bù Huàn? No, this felt different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The noise attracted the gossipping guards’ attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Court Virtuoso!” Fāng knelt down next to Làng.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng continued to curl up, quickly grasping at the guard’s robe with a surprisingly tight grip. “I can’t….breathe...” He gasped for air. “It won’t….” It was like when he’d first returned two months ago, the pain that gripped him whenever he tried to think of that two year gap. Something had happened during that time, and he was willing to forget about it until the thoughts of some other lifetime reminded him that something wasn’t right. “It won’t stop….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fāng stared up at Wěi, horror tearing at his face. “Go get some help! Quickly!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi scampered off quickly down the hallway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng reached out, but thoughts of the mountains clouded his mind. He remembered cool air, a hike up the hillside, playing music for someone. He wanted to stop Wěi, but he also wanted to breathe again. If they found him like this, he would be useless in this state, discarded as any broken blade would. What use was a songbird who couldn’t breathe? Everything was ending right there as he gasped for air, curled up as the pain drove itself right through his entire being. He didn’t want to die here, but he wasn’t certain if that mattered anymore. The princess got angry at him for asking about the pipa. What would she do with something like this? He’d be discarded much as he was before by Shāng Bù Huàn. He thought for once he belonged here, safe from villains who wanted to use his voice for their own gain or villainous exploits. But in truth, he was nothing more than property that was reaching its end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the pain subsided, he found himself back in his room with a cold cloth on his forehead. He clutched at his chest as thoughts of the mountain came back to his mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Think of something else. Anything!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something was going on, something scratching at the back of his mind. What had truly happened in that two year gap? In the past two months, he had slowly given up hope on ever knowing what truly had transpired. He still felt that something was off and none of the stories made sense, but he’d surrendered to his position and decided to carry on without that knowledge. It was better that way. Shāng Bù Huàn had used him as a sorcerous blade to commit villainy against Xī Yōu, and he never wanted to remember what that was. It would hurt more than whatever happened to him in the hallway. He couldn’t remember no matter what.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the feeling inside his head, the pain inside his heart. Something told him that </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>was wrong. He pushed the blankets away, pushing his hair back up into a proper top knot. Someone had to know what had happened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The princess? She knew something but she would rather demand songs from him or push him uncomfortably into a wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào Kuáng Juàn? Làng wasn’t fond of that man, but he was the one who brought him home, the one who had pursued him while he was under the influence of whatever sword Shāng Bù Huàn had used against him. Perhaps he could get Xiào to talk, though it probably would be interlaced with insults.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng placed a hand on the wall next to the mirror, staring at his own face. Why were these willful thoughts coming back? And why did the face in the mirror look so sad?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>….</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you said everything would be okay!” Cháo Fēng stepped on the back of Xiào’s head, pushing him into the ground as he prostrated himself before her. “Why did my guard find him nearly dying in the hallway clutching his chest! He hasn’t woken up since </span>
  <em>
    <span>yesterday</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It must be the Resonant Memory’s effects,” his voice muffled as he replied with his face crushed into the ground.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“You said that if I fill him with memories, there wouldn’t </span><em><span>be </span></em><span>any</span> <span>effects!” Cháo Fēng stomped on Xiào’s head again.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào’s forehead struck the ground several times. At this rate, he’d be licking her boots for a month as she’d threatened when this whole thing was set in motion. He wanted to have at least some of his dignity intact. “His will is stronger than I expected!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cháo Fēng pushed her foot into his head, leaning over a bit to glare at him. “What do you mean!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If the target’s will is too strong, it may try to overpower the sword’s forgetful effects,” Xiào replied, hoping that eventually she’d stop trying to bash his head into the floor. “But the sword fights back! It causes pain until the person loses their will to counter it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My beautiful songbird isn’t supposed to have this strong will!!” Cháo Fēng stomped on his head again. “He is supposed to be mine and mine alone! You said everything was taken care of!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This blade should’ve returned him to that state he was before the point of forgetfulness.” Xiào rubbed at his face as soon as Cháo Fēng had finally stopped driving her foot into the back of his head. He remained respectfully bowed with his forehead on the floor. “He should have no will of his own at all. Everything you tell him should be his truth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew of that resolve that Làng had gained in that fight for the Index. It was there, but the sword should’ve taken it away and sealed it behind the memory block. To think Làng had that strong of a will to fight through that block, but after two month, why manifest now? Had something triggered it? Làng had long since abandoned questioning about the gap, the missing pipa, and Shāng Bù Huàn. “The pain will stop as soon as his will is crushed,” Xiào informed her. “The only way to reverse it is to strike the same location with the Resonant Memory before that point and that won’t happen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It better damn well not!” Cháo Fēng stomped on his head again. “Destroy that blade if you have to! I want that songbird to be forever mine! And stop that Shāng Bù Huàn before that villain destroys more of my kingdom! He will pay for sealing my songbird away from me! This plan of yours better work because I want that villain’s head!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng leaned against the far wall down the hallway from the dining room. He overheard the whole thing and by accident. This pain was an effect of a sorcerous sword? But then what was the truth about the two-year gap? If a sword was trying to crush him, he could lose whatever happened during that time. But each time he thought of something too willful or tried to remember, it would cause him pain. He would have to confront this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He clutched at his chest. No, that was too willful a thought, but what choice did he have? If this continued, he’d lose any chance he had at learning the truth that only moments ago he forcefully tried to forget. But if he didn’t, that truth would be buried forever. He was stuck, just as he was before. He was just a blade after all. Why would he even want to be anything else? He knew that Xiào and Cháo Fēng were evil to the core, and it bothered him, but he couldn’t act against it. Now even less so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could wait, preserving whatever remained of that missing self, but who would he be waiting for? No one would come for a blade like him. His only friend was aligned with the villain who stole two years from him and his treasured pipa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But did he actually steal anything?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who was telling the truth?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng ran down the hallway, quickly ducking into his own room. A scar. A wound. Something more than the one from the teacup on his face. He had to find something to tell him that what he’d heard was true. He tore his robes from his shoulders. He had a number of injuries when he first arrived, and if it had been one of them, the chance of finding it again was lost forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright, Court Virtuoso?” Fāng called from the other side of the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am fine.” It was an outright lie. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> was fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He huffed, staring at his arms and legs. Nothing, no marks, no scars, no signs of being struck by a blade. He stood up, turning to grab his robes when he caught sight of it in the mirror behind him. Nearly shoulder to shoulder spanned a massive mark across his back. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>been struck by a sorcerous sword, by the Resonant Memory that now threatened to permanently seal his memories and will with pain and choking breaths. But how could he fight this and survive?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oh no uh oh! Lang knows the truth about the sword. Kind of at least. But what could he do to counter all this? I wonder how this is going to all unfold now that he knows. Hmmmmm</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Garden Koi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Will anything that comes out of Xiao's mouth actually be truthful?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Làng Wū Yáo couldn’t get the image of that mark on his back out of his mind. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>struck him with the Resonant Memory and took </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>from him. Had they done it to save him from whatever Shāng Bù Huàn had done to him or was it more malicious?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Given who was involved, it was possibly either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gripped the white pipa as he stood in the zen garden, watching the koi swim about within the pond. So many questions in his mind and he couldn’t ask them. He was missing two years, and no one seemed to actually tell him the truth. Not that any of them had an obligation to do so. He was just a blade, made to be used for the princess’s entertainment. He wasn’t supposed to have a will anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at the koi as they swam to him, mouthing at him just above the surface, begging for food. He wondered what his mother would say about this situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, he already knew. She would beat him with a switch until he could no longer stand. This sword was just a different switch. Something happened within those two years that had changed him into something else. Was it better or was it worse?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to see you on your feet, Court Virtuoso.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stood up as the fish gathered some more near the shoreline. Xiào Kuáng Juàn approached, offering a small satchel of something to the bard. Làng stared at the thing in the Fox’s hand</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fish would prefer food rather than staring at you,” Xiào explained, pushing his glasses up his nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng took the offered satchel. Tucking the pipa under his arm, he opened it. It was actually fish food and not something suspicious. He crouched down, setting the pipa on the grass and pulling some of the dried flakes from the bag and scattering them on the water’s surface. The koi clustered together, swarming around the flakes and quickly consuming them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You gave us quite a scare two days ago, you know,” Xiào tucked his hands behind his back as he observed Làng. While that resolve he had gained was certainly trying to break free, the current shell crouching before him looked more wounded than anything. “I was hardly expecting to find you curled up on the floor in pain, gasping for air.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng rubbed at his chest some before pinching a few more flakes from the bag. He glanced over at Xiào’s curled shoes. If he asked Xiào anything, would he get a truthful answer? Probably not. The conversation he overheard last night told him something was truly off. They had </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span> something to him, and there was no way that Fox would admit to it except to brag. This didn’t seem like a bragging sort of situation. “It still hurts. I do not understand what happened.” He scattered the flakes on the surface again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Such a docile response. His will is already getting crushed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Xiào Mùsed to himself. The more that Làng fought it, the less of that resolve would remain. Soon it would disappear entirely altogether. He pushed his glasses up his nose. The less he had to worry about the bard siding with Shāng, the better.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s likely a side effect of what that villain Shāng Bù Huàn did to you,” Xiào informed Làng. He could use this opportunity to drive a massive nail into any potential memories of a friendship. He’d crush what remained of Làng’s will and ensure that he would never have to lick the princess’s boots. If Shāng ever did show up, will or not Làng would turn against him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stared at the bag of flakes in his hand. He wasn’t expecting Xiào to bring the subject up. “I barely understand what he did. The princess tells me you rescued me from Shāng Bù Huàn, and that he used a sword on me, but beyond that, I don’t know. The details are fuzzy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I suppose you could know some more information, though this is just between you and me, of course,” Xiào pushed his glasses up his nose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng had no idea if Xiào would tell him the truth. He wanted to drive the white pipa into the sneaky fox’s chest until he told him an answer, but the mere thought of doing so caused pain to ripple through Làng’s chest. He dropped the bag, the koi quickly gobbling up whatever they could from it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s still fighting</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Xiào frowned. “Are you certain you wish to hear this? Perhaps you should get more rest as the truth may only cause you more pain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng felt the pain subside as his thoughts settled. This willful thinking was not becoming of someone or something like him, and they were the source of all the pain he was feeling. He had to keep this under control. “Yes. If I know what has happened, perhaps I will stop trying to think of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào smirked behind his hand as he pushed up his glasses. The bard had associated the pain with the gap, not even wise to what was truly happening to him. “It’s called the Night of Mourning. It’s a blade that causes a complete personality flip of whoever is struck and will keep hold of them until something traumatizing happens.” He knew full well that was not how the sword worked. He’d encountered it before, and the sword now unfortunately lay hidden in that Sorcerous Sword Index. But without memories, there was no way that Làng would know that Xiào was lying through his teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That name better suits a song,” Làng commented, watching the koi attempt to chew at the bag. He reached forward, pulling the bag from the water. The koi attempted to eat his fingers, though not very successfully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Almost a song of tragedy,” Xiào continued. “That Shāng Bù Huàn is a blade thief after all, and that is what you are to him, a sorcerous blade.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is not wrong,” Làng confirmed. “I am a sorcerous blade.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But even swords are only so much use to him. Once he’s done with his crimes against Xī Yōu, he seals them in his Sorcerous Sword Index,” Xiào continued to drive the point home. “But for your case, he could not seal a person. So he threw you off a cliff in the mountains. It was fortunate I had been nearby tracking his villainous workings and found you back to your normal self.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tale seemed like the usual story that surrounded any encounter with Shāng Bù Huàn. He sealed swords he stole in that Index, and Làng was indeed a sorcerous sword. And the memories of that mountain in the mists, that was where he could barely recall falling. He grasped at his head. “I can’t remember any of this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t let the details trouble you, Virtuoso,” Xiào shallowly consoled him. “It’s said the sword causes such terrible nightmares and awful pains, the princess requested we ensure you forgot it all. But do not mention that I told you that much. The princess would be so upset if you knew.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That matched up somewhat with what he’d overheard last night. The Resonant Memory, a sword that stripped will and memory alike. Had they realized he heard the conversation? Perhaps it really was the truth coming out, but something clawed at the back of his soul, telling him that was just more lies. There was more to that conversation last night that just didn’t match up to the Fox’s current words. Not that Làng truly expected Xiào to tell him anything other than backwards truths. “That scar on my back then…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A result of saving your life and mind, of course,” Xiào pushed up his glasses. There was no way that Làng would know the true reason why he possessed it. “Now try not to think about those missing two years. The scars from the Night of Mourning will only cause you more pain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng picked up the white pipa, standing up as the koi continued to mouth at the water’s surface. “I recall falling. It was that memory that caused the pain two days ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that one memory took you down,” Xiào shook his head. To deceive Làng in this state was mere child’s play. It was so easy that he barely had to do anything. Just a bit more and there would be no hope of Shāng ever taking Làng away from the palace if Shāng ever dared to show up, and he likely would given the bait already placed. Xiào could keep his dignity and not be forced to lick Cháo’s shoes for a month. Or longer, given her mood. He didn’t want to think about it. “It’s best to forget all about that gap. It will only cause you more pain if you remember what that Shāng Bù Huàn really did to you.” He placed a hand on Làng’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That mere touch sent a chill down Làng’s spine. Xiào was conniving, and Làng could absolutely feel it. There were truths and lies in that story, and his confused mind wasn’t really good at sorting them out right now. Either way, everything led back to that gap and to Shāng Bù Huàn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stared at the koi. He didn’t want to think about the gap, but at the same time he did. Whatever lay within those two years was the answer to everything. But even the mere thought had taken him down. Thinking about those missing memories would only cause him more pain, and right now, all he wanted to do was survive it with whatever resolve he had left intact.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Night's song</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In the dark of night, rumors have attracted one bard to an unusual location.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The conversation from a few days ago still scratched at the back of his mind. The Night of Mourning and the Resonant Memory. Two blades that turned his entire life upside down. Làng Wū Yáo adjusted his top knot in the mirror as his mind attempted to sort itself out poorly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had to find an answer, to find out who was telling the truth and who was lying to him. Perhaps he could strike someone with the pipa until he found one. He felt the pain pang at his heart again. He had to stop thinking thoughts like this. The only ones he should fight were the imperial guards at the parties and Shāng Bù Huàn if they ever crossed paths.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His breathing had stabilized again. The attacks were spreading apart at least, allowing him to recover faster. It was getting easier to deal with them, though they still rippled pain through his entire body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Night was setting in and the crickets chirped outside his window. The princess had called off battles for the time being, a surprising show of mercy from her. Sort of. She still made demands of him, like the one tonight. He plucked the pipa off its stand, taking it with him as he made his way to her chambers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you are, my dear Wū Yáo~” Cháo Fēng pushed herself into him, barely letting him in the doorway. “I was starting to worry that you had fallen again, and I certainly can’t let that happen to my precious songbird, now can I?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wished for a song before bed, yes?” he gently wedged himself out of her grasp. His chest still hurt from the repeated painful attacks as his mind attempted to remind himself of the two year gap. He was afraid that in one of the attacks, he would just stop breathing altogether.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, yes, sing me a song!” She twirled away from him with glee. “Make it slow so I can dream of my precious songbird all night!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He frowned slightly. Well if it kept her happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She crawled under several blankets, peering at him expectantly as he folded his legs underneath him and sat down on one of the pillows. Setting the pipa on his lap, he pulled the strings. The song was a favorite of his, but he slowed down the tempo into a night’s song this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My life goes by like passing clouds….</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Departed the days I will be proud...</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My own footprints shall become history…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This sort of singing was much simpler than the battles he was forced to fight in the arena, different even from the songs within the taverns. Such a slow tune could cause a euphoric effect, and the princess was using it to feed her desire for his tunes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanted to hear his battle songs, see him fight as he sprayed the soldiers’ blood across the stage. She longed for that battle once again, but having him meet his end in battle because the Resonant Memory’s effects brought him to his knees was unacceptable. Làng would die on her terms and hers alone. If Xiào Kuáng Juàn was correct, the pain would subside and her fighting songbird would be back on his feet again. It hadn’t yet been a week, but she wanted more of his song. More and more and more!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She would find her fix this way instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She barely heard the last of the song as his enchanted voice lulled her to sleep. Làng plucked the last notes, hearing her begin to snore and mumble about her songbird. He took to his feet, quietly leaving the room and prodding the guard on the way out. They had nodded off at the sound of his quiet lullaby, much as the princess had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Court Virtuoso,” one of them snagged him by the sleeve quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng turned, not expecting him to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be careful on your way back,” he warned. “There have been sightings of Shāng Bù Huàn in the area. I will call an escort for you, given your current condition. Wěi and Fāng can ensure that you make it back to your room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng shook his head. “I am fine tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The attacks he’d had lately weren’t at all subtle. Since that first one when he recalled falling from the mountains, he had several more that took him to the ground in the hallway. There was talk that Làng was suffering from some fatal illness though Xiào was quick to quell them with the condition being temporary and related to Làng’s abduction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He headed down the hallway, noticing several guards placed along them facing one of the larger courtyards. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They certainly are prepared</span>
  </em>
  <span>, though Làng wasn’t actually certain how prepared that could be given how easily he dispatched them while singing. If Shāng Bù Huàn really was that powerful, they stood no chance against them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there was the matter of Shāng. There were so many questions in Làng’s mind right now concerning the missing two years, and it literally pained him to think about it. This villain was rampaging the area, drawing closer and closer to the palace, and something had to be attracting him. Làng considered for a moment that Shāng would be after himself instead, but Shāng had already thrown him away literally and likely presumed him dead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rumors he’d been hearing lately about a sorcerous sword at the palace that wasn’t him. The Resonant Memory?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he could take that sword first and somehow strike his back, he would learn the truth about what truly happened. He would fight Shāng for that sword if he had to. He clutched his chest as he headed down the hallway opposite of his own room towards the courtyard. No matter the cost, he had to know the truth. If the Night of Mourning’s scars did cause him pain, he would simply strike himself with the Resonant Memory to force himself to forget.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there was a chance that it would reveal something else. Something different panged at the back of his mind. That fall from the cliffside didn’t feel malicious. People were calling out to him. Someone called him by his personal name. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. They told him to hang on like they wanted to save him from that fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grasped the wall, his breaths becoming short once again as he ducked into the zen garden. If he crumpled here and now, he would never know the truth, the sword stolen by the villain and his memories permanently sealed. He had to work through the pain. He’d been beaten down enough times. He could endure as long as he didn’t nearly stop breathing again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the pain subsided, he crossed the zen garden to the far ends of the palace. As the Court Virtuoso, he was allowed full reign of the place as long as he never left the palace grounds. His presence was rarely questioned, allowing him to easily slip past the increased number of guards in the hallways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had happened across it before, a small sanctuary in the back of the palace. The guard once told him that sacred swords might be kept there, the kind that Shāng Bù Huàn might want to steal. It was empty last time, but if the Sword-plundering Nemesis were truly in the area and judging by the rumors he’d heard, perhaps there was something there now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And as he expected, there were far too many guards standing near the sanctuary. Something was in there. He could easily attack them, but his attacks were distinct and would likely cause him pain. Every thought he had of harming someone to gain something himself sent him into a painful fit. But he had another weapon he could use.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking the white pipa into his hands, he pulled at the strings, singing the night’s song he used to lull the princess to sleep. The guards quickly crumpled to the ground, falling asleep and allowing the bard to pass. Làng crept into the sanctuary unnoticed. A small pond with koi, several scrolls, some bonsai trees. It seemed less like a sanctuary and more a place to entertain guests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the lavish accents didn’t catch his attention. It was the pedestal in the back that held a large curved blade adorned with beads and feather-like charms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaping over the pool, he reached for the blade but stopped, his fingers barely brushing across the hilt. This was his one chance to know the truth, his one chance to understand the memories that scratched at the back of his mind. He had to know who had called out to him when he fell off the cliff. He had to know what happened in those missing two years.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pain rippled through his body as he even attempted to recall that fall. The mountain mists, the people calling his name, the feeling of loss. What had he left behind? Happiness? Friends? Adventure? Perhaps was it villainy, sorrow, and misery? The pain subsided as he grasped the hilt. It was his key, the answer to everything. He rose the sword up, his hands barely able to keep a grip on it shaking like a leaf. He would have to use his own qi to strike his back carefully. One wrong move and he could forget everything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Làng?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t recognize the voice. He turned around. Behind him was someone in a black robe with a hat covering his face. That had to be the Sword-plundering Nemesis. He was here.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Uh oh! Uhohuhoh! Will they fight? Will they talk? How will this truly end?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Sword Sanctuary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The two sides finally meet. Will Shang and Lang fight or will they join up again?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Làng Wū Yáo stared at the black-robed man uneasily as he gripped the sorcerous blade in one hand and the white pipa in the other. He was still feeling the pain course through his body as he struggled to stand. Shāng Bù Huàn, the link between the two year gap and his present state. “You must be the Sword-plundering Nemesis.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng removed the hat, his brow knit into a knot. He felt like he was staring at a ghost. He had spent so much time coming to terms with Làng being dead that staring at someone who looked like him felt impossible. Yet there he was, a ghost of his dead friend in the white robes he took before finding his resolve. “Làng…” he gripped his hat, uncertain of what even to say. “You say that as if you don’t know me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng watched Shāng cautiously. Everything about staring at this man confused him. There wasn’t an ounce of malice in Shāng, no evil intent for someone who used him for two years then threw him off a cliff. Shāng’s stance was uneasy, but for someone who attempted to kill him, seeing Làng alive must be jarring. But those words, they sounded forlorn like someone reaching out to a lost friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grasped the pedestal with the crook of his elbow, refusing to let his weakening hands release either the sword or the pipa. He couldn’t show weakness here else he might truly die.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you’re alive,” Shāng continued, stepping forward. “We…” Guilt panged at his heart. He opened his free hand a bit, balling it up before letting it fall to his side. His face twisted into a miserable knot. Their last conversation wasn’t the greatest. Làng had been angry with Shāng for not wanting to strike the seal guardian, and at the time, Shāng was fully certain the decision had been correct.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then tragedy struck and Shāng had barely been able to handle the guilt of what had happened. He had thought of it so many times, how he wanted to apologize to Làng profusely over and over again. The thoughts pervaded his dreams, but now that he was facing someone who looked just like Làng, he didn’t know what to say. He stopped approaching, placing a hand on his mouth before rubbing at his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng watched Shāng cautiously. This was not the behavior of a murderous villain who wanted to use Làng as a blade and that had thrown him off a cliff. Everything felt off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Shāng finally spoke. “You must be furious with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That you tried to kill me and failed?” Làng accused him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kill</span>
  </em>
  <span> you?” Shāng questioned. “Why… why would I? I know it was my fault that you fell, but surely you don’t feel that I would kill you.” Everything about this felt wrong. The behavior, the words, even the attire that Làng now wore. Was this somehow an illusion conjured up before him to catch him in the act? The empire no doubt knew of Làng’s death and would use it against him much as the seal guardian Lián Měi attempted to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was terrible at discerning illusions. That much was easy enough to tell when he nearly ate scorpions. If so, this one was a strange illusion. Làng looked like he could barely stand, gripping a pipa and the sorcerous sword while trying to also hold onto the pedestal and not crumple right to the ground. His expression was terribly confused, and he was beginning to flush red like he couldn’t breathe. Shāng could hear the shallow breaths even at this distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But everything inside of him screamed that this Làng standing before him was somehow real. He wanted to believe that with his entire being. The guards outside the sanctuary had suddenly fallen asleep, and the only person with a voice with that effect was Làng. He now had taken the sword Shāng had come to claim. Làng wanted something, but Shāng didn’t know what it was or what had actually happened to him in the last two months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng watched Shāng cautiously. He was in no state to fight right now with the pain nearly causing him to black out. He wanted to fight Shāng for everything that villain had done to him. But had he? Was that actually the truth of what happened two months ago?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just seeing Shāng stand before him sent his mind into a knot. Everything he had been told about Shāng felt wrong. Staring at him, Làng felt no malice, no ill intent. Instead he found grief and regret. Shāng was reaching out to him but was it all just a rouse? This villain supposedly took down an entire shrine and had 300 mystical swords he could use at any time. He also had struck Làng with something to change his personality and force him to use his voice for evil.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But did he? Was that the truth that Làng was attempting to remember? He felt the pain strike him through the chest again. He was trying to hide it but it was plastered all over his face. He gripped the pipa tightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Làng, two months ago, we thought we’d lost you,” Shāng frowned, staring at the pond between them. “When that seal guardian broke the bridge and attacked you with the Mountain Gale, when you fell into the ravine, when we found Líng Yá and pieces of your robe at the edge of the lower cliffside. I should’ve listened to you when you said Lián Měi was evil. You knew it, and I just wouldn’t listen. It’s all my fault, Làng. All of it because I wanted to believe she was good and not evil.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lián Měi. It was that name again, the one that caused the worst attack several days ago. Shāng knew it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He knew that name</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He knew about the mountains. He knew the sword’s name. The details of the event were different than anyone else had told him. It sounded like the fall was an accident, that Shāng hadn’t attacked him and threw him off a cliff. Someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng felt the pain ripple through him again as he shallowly gasped for air, tumbling forward as he fell to the stone floor. The pipa and the sword clattered to the ground as he grasped at his chest. He didn’t care about the pipa. It meant nothing to him. That sword, however. It was his one key to the truth and if he blacked out now, that truth would be gone forever. “Not… not now… stop….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached for it, seeing Shāng approach. This was it, wasn’t it? Shāng would kill him and seal that sword away in his Index. He would die not knowing the truth of the two year gap. He had to know who was telling the truth. Was it Shāng or was it Xiào and Cháo Fēng? “The… the sword…. don’t seal it away…...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His hand fell short of it as Shāng approached but he didn’t stop for the sword. Shāng kept going. He knelt down, placing a hand on Làng’s shoulder. “...Don’t…” Làng wanted to fight him, to push him away and survive this. “...I can’t…” He couldn’t die here, not when he was so close to finding out the truth. It felt like he couldn’t breathe again as he clawed at his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the hand on his shoulder felt friendly and familiar, like Shāng had put a hand on his shoulder before. Then came something unexpected. Qi. Shāng was using his own qi to heal him. This was everything contrary to what he’d been told, what he’d been led to believe despite what his own sense was screaming at him. And yet now he felt like he could breathe again as the pain subsided, thanks to the person he was told had tried to kill him. “You… healed me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sound so surprised,” Shāng said, sitting down next to him. “I’d like to think we were something more than traveling partners. I dared call you friend for the past two years, after all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This definitely wasn’t the villain Xiào had made him out to be. Why heal someone if you intended to kill them? Why call them ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>friend’</span>
  </em>
  <span> for </span>
  <em>
    <span>two whole years</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Làng stared at the sword on the ground, listening to Shāng beside him. There was relief and guilt, worry and concern. There was still no malice, no evil, no signs of ill intent. “This… this doesn’t add up. Nothing makes sense.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what’s happened to you in the past two months,” Shāng frowned. “But whatever it is, something is binding you. I thought maybe you hit your head when you fell, that you lost your memories and forgot everything we’ve done in the past two years, our friendships and adventures, but I can feel it. Something is affecting you. It’s… It’s almost like it’s stolen your will from you. You would never return here unless something like that had happened. You always said you felt trapped here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stared at the blade on the ground some more. Xiào had mentioned those words before, about his will and his memories. He certainly </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> felt trapped too, and no one else would know that unless they knew him </span>
  <em>
    <span>personally</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The Resonant Memory crushed someone’s will until nothing was left. Xiào had told Làng it was to make him forget horrible memories, but that conversation at the koi pond hadn’t sat right with Làng at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rubbed at his face. Everything right now felt strange. He still felt no malice from Shāng, unlike every time he spoke to Xiào or Cháo Fēng.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng weakly pushed himself up, feeling the pangs in his heart attempting to force him back to the ground. He leaned on shaky arms, attempting to keep himself upright and not black out. This was his chance to understand what had happened. Everything he’d observed from this villain had contrasted everything he was told. Xiào was conniving. Cháo Fēng was nothing but evil. The conversation he’d overheard told him they had done something to him, to make him theirs, to make him </span>
  <em>
    <span>forget himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “What happened two months ago?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng could nearly hear Shāng’s heart skip a beat. That response told him more than any words ever could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I helplessly watched you fall from that cliff knowing that I couldn’t reach you,” Shāng replied. “I wanted to dive into the ravine after you, to stop you from falling to the bottom. But there was no way of knowing how deep it was, and there was no way I could’ve leapt across that gap in time to grab you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng’s face twisted into a knot. Just recalling it felt so painful. He felt so much regret about that day. “Until a few moments ago, I was certain you had died on that cliff. It’s my fault, honestly. I know you can perceive things we cannot, and you warned me that she was evil. But I wanted to believe that seal guardian was good, but she tried to kill you and nearly did. I wanted to believe that the seal guardians were still protecting Xī Yōu, but you were absolutely right about her. I have spent the last two months believing you were dead and trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>deal</span>
  </em>
  <span> with that. Even if I had two years, I don’t think I ever would’ve fully dealt with it, especially since I had caused it by not believing your judgment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words and the actions were starting to add up in Làng’s jumbled mind. Shāng was not the man that Xiào made him out to be. For the first time, Làng felt like someone might actually be telling him the truth. His words, his actions, his unconscious movements. This man was not someone who tried to kill him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There he is, the Sword-plundering Nemesis!!!” The guard surrounded the sanctuary. “And he’s got the Court Virtuoso!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng huffed, rubbing at his face. “It really was only a matter of time before they’d catch up to me. They always do.” He took to his feet, stepping over the sorcerous sword on the ground. “Hang in there for a moment longer, Làng. We’ll find a way to fix this, but I’ll need to take care of these guys first.” He withdrew his sword, the blast of qi threw the waterlilies from the pond and rattled the scrolls on the walls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stared at the guard gathered near the door. He had to make a choice, and it was becoming more and more obvious what had to be done. These past two months had been a lie, and the only person that seemed to be honest was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>one person</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was told not to trust. None of this was right. He could feel it down to his very soul. Shāng was a good person, not the worst villain in all of Xī Yōu. There was more to this story, and everything was locked away behind that two year memory gap. He had to find out what he lost and there was only one person who felt like he could help him with this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at the sorcerous blade on the ground, but instead of reaching for it, he grasped the pipa nearby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything hurt in his body. That meant this was the right choice. Each time he thought of that gap or thought something willful, he felt it. Shāng had said Làng left this life of a songbird behind, and everything pointed to this actually being true. That feeling he had deep inside his soul that he couldn’t ignore, the one that caused him immense pain as whatever was left of that forgotten self was being crushed. He was something more, something greater than that miserable face in the mirror. Whatever he’d lost, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>it back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng pulled on the pipa strings, channeling whatever qi he had left through them. The sonic attack whipped past Shāng, throwing the guard back and knocking them backwards. Even in his weakened state, they were so easy to dispatch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Làng!” Shāng turned. His friend was still in there somewhere, fighting against whatever had happened to him in the last two months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Help me,” Làng said weakly. Shāng felt like the only person he could trust right now. He didn’t want to stay in this palace of evil anymore. At this rate, if he stayed, he’d likely die. “Help me regain my memories. Help me find what I’ve lost.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Flown the cage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>One desperately claws at the memories he's lost. The other desperately wants to protect his friend. Both need to escape from this cage of a palace alive.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Get him! Stop the Sword-plundering Nemesis! He’s got the Court Virtuoso!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng Bù Huàn frowned. He wasn’t expecting this to be easy, breaking into the palace to steal a sorcerous sword. But a simple task in Shāng’s mind had led him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Làng Wū Yáo himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Shāng had never once expected Làng to be alive. He wanted it so badly to be true as they searched that ravine. He wanted it to be true as they carried Líng Yá into the mountains and set out a memorial for their friend. He wanted it to be true for the past two months.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And after a while, the hope felt pointless. He couldn’t wish someone back alive, no matter how much his own decisions that lead to this ate away at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now everything had changed as he exited that sword sanctuary. Làng was clinging to his shoulders, barely conscious and in an immense amount of pain. He had the sword tucked in his belt and the white pipa in his hand. He would have to fight his way out, but carefully. He wasn’t going to lose his friend again. It couldn’t get any worse than that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well well well, how low can you truly get, Shāng Bù Huàn?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That would be close to getting worse. Shāng frowned as Xiào Kuáng Juàn approached through the sea of imperial guards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào’s plan was almost perfect. Use a sword to attract Shāng then deliver the villain’s head on a platter to the princess. But Làng’s presence had been a surprise. Xiào wasn’t sure what the Virtuoso was doing here, but it added another problem into the mix. If anything happened to Làng, the princess would have Xiào’s head. He’d simply have to force Shāng’s hand, causing him to either surrender Làng or himself. Preferably both.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Causing such a ruckus,” Xiào shook his head. “Taking two sorcerous blades with you? So you can discard the living one after you’re done with him again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng frowned. So that was where Làng had gotten the idea. Xiào had planted it in his mind. “I think you’ve got your facts wrong here, Hunting Fox.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào pushed his glasses up his nose. “And what, you’re the bearer of truth? Hand over the Court Virtuoso and the Index.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His name is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Làng</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Shāng said. “And I’m handing neither over to a snake like you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take him down, but don’t hurt the Virtuoso!” Xiào barked the order. Last thing he needed was Cháo Fēng kicking his head into the ground again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào had truthfully hoped to avoid Shāng ever knowing that Làng was alive, but now that he did, he would make sure that Shāng didn’t leave here alive and that Làng would never know the truth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guard attempted to overwhelm Shāng. He took the white pipa, driving it into the guard like a blade. The qi blasted through them, sending them flying into the other guards. He had to protect Làng. He couldn’t leave here without him no matter what. And with the grip weakening on his shirt, Làng could possibly lose consciousness from whatever was binding him. His breathing was becoming shallow and strained as he buried his face in Shāng’s back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guilt still panged at Shāng’s heart knowing that his own shortsightedness had put Làng in this position, but he was alive. Làng was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still alive</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He could fight again knowing that somehow, some way, they would reverse whatever was done to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Straight ahead. Through the zen garden</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng glanced over his shoulder at the weak instruction. Làng wasn’t doing so well, and a retreat </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>the best option. If anyone knew the layout of the place, it was Làng. The way he came in certainly wasn’t going to work with the tall walls and even taller trees. He took the pipa, swinging it widely and knocking the closest assailants backwards before leaping over the rest in the indicated direction. He jammed the white pipa into the guards who attempted to approach him as he landed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào scoffed, quickly following after them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng quickly arrived in the garden, setting Làng down for a moment before sling Làng over his shoulder. He could tell Làng was in pain as he grasped the back of Shāng’s robe. “Hang on just a bit longer, Làng.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Taking advantage of the Virtuoso in his condition,” Xiào chided as he caught up with the pair. “How low can you truly get?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m willing to bet this is somehow your doing,” Shāng frowned at him. “Taking his memories and his will from him. We already know you planned faking Làng’s death by working with Lián Měi, sending him into that ravine as some part of a backwards deal with you.” He wanted to stomp Xiào into the ground but that sort of thrashing would have to wait.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And just how exactly do you think I could steal memories and will?” Xiào pushed his glasses up. “It’s not like I know some kind of magic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That grin told Shāng all he needed to know. This was the effect of a sorcerous sword. He now had one tucked into his waistband, the same one that Làng had desperately clawed at when he found him in the sanctuary. Làng knew something that he wasn’t able to communicate just yet, hesitant from whatever lies Xiào had planted in his mind. But even with this deception, Làng could still understand the truth. Lost memories couldn’t change that sense of good and evil he naturally had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>To the right. The hallway leads towards the front.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng turned, leaping upwards and landing the wall as Làng had instructed. He ran along the top of the hallways, hearing a clamor inside as the guard stirred to life throughout the rest of the palace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop him! Stop that villain!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng leapt over the stray arrows and thrown spears as he continued along the indicated path. He passed a courtyard now swarming with guards, but the larger trouble was the one who now followed him on the roof.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng could barely hear every noise, every word shouted, and the sound of Xiào aggressively pursuing them as Shāng carried him along. The Virtuoso was putting a lot of faith in someone he was told was a terrible evil, though everything he’d heard and felt at the sword sanctuary made him question how evil Shāng actually was and what was truly right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembered the time before the missing two years. Everything felt clear then. He was the Court Virtuoso. He fought and sang as the sharpened melodic blade he was always meant to be. His mother would’ve been proud back then as he had accidentally found his way to the palace where his voice would always be protected. No one would be affected by his songs, entranced by them and driving people to villainy. It was where he </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> he belonged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then the gap. That was where everything started getting lost. The stories that Xiào and Cháo Fēng had told him seemed like a truth, the tale of the Night of Mourning and the subsequent attempt to make him forget. Everything about that gap had confused him for the past two months, clawing at his mind like an incessant itch. He convinced himself he wanted to forget and live his songbird life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Shāng showed up. The worst villain in all of Xī Yōu that didn’t have an ounce of evil within him, the one who seemed to know him and regretted losing him, the one that actually seemed to care. Làng was trusting Shāng more than he was told he should, making a decision that could possibly cost him his life. But something deep within Làng’s soul told him that this was the only way to recover what he’d lost in that two year gap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he hadn’t gone with Shāng, if he was returned to the princess, would she be any better? She’d certainly do more than strike him with a teacup, especially if she found out he was trying to get the sword to remember. There was a good chance he wouldn’t survive the night. He didn’t want to return to her. He didn’t want to stay in this palace of evil anymore It was a strange thought. Wanting something for himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closed his eyes, his grip loosening on Shāng’s robes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had nearly reached the gate when a swarm of guards clambered to the roof, attempting to cut them off. Shāng stopped, blocking Xiào’s sword with the white pipa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Give up, Shāng Bù Huàn,” Xiào demanded. “This will be the last blade you’ll ever steal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The situation wasn’t exactly in Shāng’s favor at the moment, but he wasn’t about to surrender and leave Làng at their mercy. He had to rescue his friend. Làng now dangled unconsciously on his shoulders. If Shāng didn’t treat him with some qi, he was worried Làng might not make it through the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushed the pipa forward, jamming it into Xiào’s gut and pushing him backwards. He struck several guards with his foot, throwing them off the roof. Jamming the pipa down on the roof, he brought up several roof tiles with his qi. “It’s time I leave with my friend and fix what horrors you’ve done to him! Formless Rogue Sword: Wild Dance of Roof Tiles!” As he drew the pipa back up, the roof tiles shot off in both directions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite his best attempts, Xiào was overwhelmed by the ridiculous assault of clay roof tiles and thrown off the roof.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The remaining tiles careened into the swarm of guards, bursting through them and shattering any resistance in Shāng’s path. Adjusting Làng on his shoulder, Shāng leapt over the bodies, over the outer wall, and out into the nearby forest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he left, he heard the most unholy scream he’d ever witnessed. The princess, he reasoned. Best to not have Làng stay there with someone like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào had barely recovered, pulling himself back on the roof when he spotted Cháo Fēng boring a hole through him from her bedchamber window. He was going to get his face slammed into the floorboards for this. “Dammit. Damn that Shāng Bù Huàn!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>How I wish I could see the roof tile attack made by puppets. I was imagining the final battle in the movie when I write this scene, how an epic escape would look if it were a sequel to Bewitching Melody of the West.</p>
<p>I’m sure season 3 will probably throw this whole story out the window but I don’t care. I’m having fun with this.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Memories lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lang is back with Shang and Mu, but is that enough to help him regain his lost memories?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shāng Bù Huàn had finally lost them, but he wasn’t quite out of the woods yet. Literally and figuratively. Làng Wū Yáo was still unconscious on his shoulder, plagued by something that caused him pain immense enough that he’d fallen unconscious. Shāng still had no idea what sword had been used on him or where it was. It was still possible that whatever he had tucked in his belt was the key to fixing all this and getting Làng back to his normal healthy self.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng traveled some ways away from the palace to a small clearing within the forest. “Tiān Mìng!” he announced his arrival. “Gather some blankets and furs!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù Tiān Mìng had been sitting by the fire, restringing the guqin as she plotted out other potential locations as their next target. She hadn’t expected the urgent request, quickly setting the guqin aside to gather some furs. She turned, dropping the fur blanket immediately seeing that it was not Shāng who needed the blanket but a familiar redheaded white-clad musician slung over his shoulders. “B… Bù Huàn! Is that…?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is. It’s truly him,” Shāng nodded, carefully setting Làng down on the furs. “The Hunting Fox staged everything then did something to him. I think it was a sword, but I have no idea which. He’s had his memories and resolve stolen from him. When he encountered me at the palace, he was in immense pain and barely able to breathe. The pain knocked him out but not before he asked for my help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù knit her brow together. He looked just like that lost songbird with no resolve he once was. She pulled the furs over him, placing a hand on his shoulder to heal him with some qi. His breathing soon settled, no longer sounding strained. “To think he’d been alive this whole time, suffering at the palace and we weren’t even aware.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That Hunting Fox...” Shāng placed the white pipa next to Làng. “He’s more conniving than I expected him to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With the way Lián Měi had acted at the bridge, I’d agree. He twisted her desires to protect the shrine into something so evil she was willing to kill people.” She placed a gentle hand on Làng’s shoulder. She still could recall the search for him in the ravine, choking back tears and emotions as she dragged Shāng up the mountain to Làng’s home. They had held a memorial for Làng and Líng Yá, swearing to never forget what had happened and to carry on the work they had done together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I spoke to Làng briefly before he got worse and we were forced to flee,” Shāng said. “He’d been at the palace for some time, long enough for Xiào Kuáng Juàn to plant false stories and ideas in his head. He was convinced I had come there to kill him after failing to do so at the cliffs. He looked like he would’ve fought me if it hadn’t been for that pain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That Fox sure knows how to twist the truth,” Mù frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure what convinced him that I wasn’t,” Shāng admitted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù stood up, glancing at Làng for a moment almost afraid that he’d be whisked away in the wind like a faded memory. “There is that sense of his, that strong sense of good and evil, but if he has reverted back to that state somehow, it would have to take something within him to change his mind. When we were still getting to know each other, I had told him the taverns would be dangerous. He looked like he knew it, but he refused to believe it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just like how something within him drove him to join us two years ago,” Shāng understood. “Perhaps just like then, he knew something was wrong with his current situation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There must be a part of him that still remembers,” Mù reasoned. “Something deep within his soul. He must be fighting against whatever this sword did to him. Seeing you may have triggered some memories he didn’t understand. I can’t imagine what struggle he’s dealing with right now. It must be awful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could see it written on his face at the palace,” Shāng shook his head. He turned, hearing sounds in the forest. They caught up to them more quickly than he expected. “We should go.” He threw water over the fire, quickly scooping Làng and the pipa up and disappearing into the forest with Mù.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>….</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Làng squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before drawing a hand to his head. He heard a rustling breeze and a crackling fire, sounds that didn’t make sense in his mind. With all the commotion, he was certain that Shāng had fallen, and he was back in his room in the palace or perhaps thrown into a dungeon somewhere. He opened his eyes, barely able to focus on the trees towering overhead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get some rest, Wū Yáo,” Mù knelt next to him. “You’re safe here with us. We’ve managed to ditch the imperial search parties.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tiān Mìng?” He stared up at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I’m glad you haven’t forgotten me,” Mù smiled. “Bù Huàn told me about your missing memory and what happened at the palace.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I remember everything up to about two years ago,” Làng admitted, feeling at ease around her. She was working with Shāng, that much he knew, but Làng had never once felt evil from her. Even when they dueled in song, he still never felt malice. Looking at her once again confirmed everything he felt and knew to be true. “Then there’s a gap. Nothing. It’s blank.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Two years ago is when you fled the palace and came with us,” Shāng recalled. “We fought and you realized that we weren’t as evil as you were told. You made a choice to turn against the empire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That matched up with everything he had been told, but the details he felt were wrong. “They said you had stolen me from the palace, struck me with the Night of Mourning to turn me into your battle blade for two years. Using and abusing my sorcerous voice for villainy against the people of </span>
  <span>Xī Yōu</span>
  <span>. The pain I have been feeling is my mind fighting against the scars it caused.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng choked on his tea. “They said </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù could barely believe what he’d been told. “Wū Yáo. The Night of Mourning can turn someone into a mindless puppet, but the effects are </span>
  <em>
    <span>temporary</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They last until you fall unconscious or are struck with the sword again. Certainly not something that would last years and leave scars. A mark might show up to indicate any controlling sword’s effects, but afterward, it’s gone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng rubbed at his face, his mind still feeling jumbled and fuzzy. “The story felt off when I heard it. Xiào told me he sealed my memories of it so I wouldn’t be pained by what I had witnessed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think that man has ever spoken a truthful word,” Shāng frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is evil that seeps into his very core,” Làng agreed. “There was a part of me that believed him. A part that believed that someone who had gone to great lengths to return me home would give me an honest answer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What a </span>
  <em>
    <span>noble </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing for him to do,” Mù commented sarcastically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng pushed himself up, feeling the pain of a recent attack pull at his body, It always left him feeling like he’d been punched in the chest, particularly this past week where the attacks had been so frequent. But it felt less so than normal. They had healed him, hadn’t they? “You mentioned a mark of a sword.” He gingerly turned, shifting his white robes off his shoulders, pulling his long hair to the side, and showing them the massive mark that spanned his entire back, shoulder to shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That has to be the biggest mark I’ve seen,” Mù stared at it. “Does it hurt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng shook his head. “I didn't even know it was there until a few days ago. I overheard Xiào and the princess speaking. Yelling mostly on the princess’s behalf. He said there were side effects of a sword called the Resonant Memory. It seals my memories to a point and my attempts to remember are the cause of the pain I have been feeling. The true reason likely, not everything I’d been told for the last two months. I must be struck with the sword along this mark to reverse the effects.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So that was the true power of the Resonant Memory. It pained her to think her reasoning was right, that the empire was using it on musicians. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This</span>
  </em>
  <span> musician. “Even in this state you still understood the truth,” Mù observed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I started remembering the mountains,” Làng admitted, pulling his robe back over his shoulders. “I recalled voices crying out for me. They knew me and I----” He doubled over. Each time he tried to recall what happened on those mountains, the pain struck him right through the heart. He grasped his robes tightly, trying to calm his mind and his breathing. “If this keeps up, I will lose everything. Xiào said that the more I fight this sword, even unconsciously, the more my own self will be crushed. There is something important in that two year gap that I cannot lose. I need to know what it is. I want this more than anything I can recall wanting, even though I should not desire such things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù placed a hand on his shoulder. She could feel him shaking as he struggled to overcome the sword’s effects. “We won’t let that happen. We’ll find the Resonant Memory and help you be you again. The one with wants and desires and resolve. The one we call our dear friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng frowned. They were working against time. The longer this kept up, the more it risked Làng’s life and his identity. If only he had listened to Làng about Lián Měi, though nothing would’ve told him it would come to this. But that was the past. He couldn’t change what happened. Now he had a chance to fix it so they had a future.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stared at the blankets and tangled white robes as his heart finally felt like it was stabilizing again. “The sword from the palace….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng shook his head. “It’s a fake. Just a regular old sword disguised to look like a sorcerous one. The whole thing was a setup.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My last chance…” Làng gripped his robes tightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll find it,” Shāng assured him. “Whatever it takes, we’ll get your memories and resolve back.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Cold reunited</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As they head up the mountainside, they may be running out of time before the Resonant Memory causes permanent damage.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Làng Wū Yáo wasn’t sure where they were headed as they attempted to dodge the imperial search parties. The princess wanted him back badly and everything underneath the pain and confusion screamed out against returning. And if he was returned, what would happen to the only two people who wanted to help him?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared blankly at the snow-covered path before him. He felt like whatever was still left in that two year gap was fading away. He felt empty. Perhaps he would lose everything at this rate. He stopped suddenly, turning. It felt like someone was trying to call out to him again but the words never reached him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wū Yáo? Is something wrong?” Mù Tiān Mìng called out to him. “Do you hear a search party?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng turned, peering up at his companions before peering back down the mountainside. No one was there but the three of them. They hadn’t passed any travelers or villages for some time. All he heard was the birds, a stream babbling under the ice, creatures scampering in the bushes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had spoken to Mù before, back when he was still singing at the taverns. He felt at ease around her, something he still recalled. It happened before the two year gap, a time when everything was still clear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not being followed, are we?” Shāng Bù Huàn worried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng shook his head, turning back to his companions. How was he supposed to understand what he was hearing? He followed them some more before he finally spoke. “Tiān Mìng, I feel a voice trying to call out to me. That is what I am hearing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù turned as he spoke. “Like the one you said you had heard when you were alone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng shook his head. “When I think I hear it, it’s gone, just out of reach like that two year gap. I have been feeling it behind me for the past two months but not once have I ever heard any words. It’s like a faded voice, a feeling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù placed a hand on his shoulder. “That might be Líng Yá trying to reach you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Líng Yá?” Làng didn’t recognize the name, though he had heard Shāng mention it before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù nodded. “Two years ago, you gained your own resolve and that voice you heard speaking to you when you were alone became Líng Yá, your talking red pipa. You had placed your feelings and your own sorcerous power into your pipa so strongly that it gave him life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng couldn’t understand how a pipa could talk, but something felt familiar about it. He had been desperately trying to retrieve his red pipa for the past two months, feeling that there was something important that he’d understand if he found it. All paths had led to it never returning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He placed a hand on his chest, worried that the pain would return. Any more of it, and he could lose whatever was locked away behind the sword’s scar. “They said you had stolen the pipa from me, Shāng. That you took it and sealed it away in the Sorcerous Sword Index.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course they did,” Shāng snorted. “When we went searching for you after you fell, we found it badly damaged. We left it up here in the mountains as a memorial.” He frowned, the memory of that travel tearing at his heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one who wanted to kill him would leave a memorial for him, not that Làng still believed they had any intention of doing that anymore. Whatever happened within those two years had made him worthy of a memorial. His confused mind still couldn’t understand how that would even come to be. He was just a sorcerous blade, but they treated him like a friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aside from throwing off the imperial search parties, we’re heading up here to retrieve it,” Shāng added. “That white pipa just doesn’t seem like you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t like it,” Làng confirmed. The white pipa never felt right in his hands. He wanted the red one, and there was a wash of relief knowing that it hadn’t been sealed or destroyed. Even if it started talking, it was still his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they traveled further up the mountain, Làng realized where they were. He knew this place well, the mountains where he grew up. His mother turned him into a highly refined blade, training his hearing, his singing, and his battle skills. He hadn’t returned since his mother had died. Or had he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He placed a hand on his head. Remembering right now was a bad idea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The place hadn’t changed much since he’d left, though more snow from years of neglect had piled up. The cavern where he had trained, the fire pit on the cliffside covered in snow and icicles, the hut with a red pipa leaned against it half covered in snow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The red pipa! There it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng pushed forward, dropping the white one and digging the red one out of the snow. It was the same old wooden pipa he remembered, the one that once belonged to his mother. It didn’t seem to be talking or was transformed, but he still found relief that it was returned to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng leaned over to Mù. “It’s no longer Líng Yá. It’s just that old pipa.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù frowned. “He’s connected to Wū Yáo, and until he remembers, Líng Yá may continue to be that distant voice he cannot hear. Líng Yá might need Wū Yáo to acknowledge him to return to his pipa state.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And right now with that sword’s effects, remembering is exactly what he shouldn’t be doing right now,” Shāng knit his brow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù nodded. “I’m worried about him, Bù Huàn. That light in his eyes is fading quickly. He spent half the hike up staring at the ground. I’m afraid we’re losing him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng frowned, watching Làng pick up the pipa and run his fingers along the strings. “We have to find that blade. Làng’s still in there somewhere, still fighting against its effects on the inside even if the docile former self is on the outside. We haven’t lost yet, and I refuse to give up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù knit her brow as she watched Làng cradle the old pipa. “Even if his memories become sealed, he’s still our Wū Yáo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to think of that possibility just yet,” Shāng shook his head. “I can’t lose him again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Mù agreed. “I couldn’t bear to lose him a second time either. But if it does happen, if we cannot fix this, we’ll make new memories. We’ll help him become himself again, even if it takes years. He will always be our friend, no matter what form he takes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng nodded. “Always.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng cradled his precious pipa in his hands, the one that had supposedly been stolen from him. He frowned just slightly, finding the large gash along the back. Damage from the fall, no doubt. One thing both tales had correct. He fell pretty far, eventually losing consciousness by the time Xiào Kuáng Juàn had found him. He flipped the pipa over, pulling at the strings. Even with the gash, the tone still sounded perfect. That white one never suited him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there was something else his mind was trying to remember. Perhaps it was what Mù had said, that the pipa had transformed with his own resolve. He couldn’t fathom having any resolve. It wasn’t something a sorcerous blade should have, but both Mù and Shāng had mentioned it. Something </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>happened in that two year period, and it all came crashing down two months ago when he fell off the cliff.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng gripped the pipa as the pain was threatening to take him down into the snow. Why was this happening again? He was purposely trying not to remember. But if it were anything like the first attack in the hallway, something small could take him right down to the ground. It was deja vu, a reminder, something trying to reach out to him from beyond that sealed wall. He wanted this to stop. He wanted to remember, but each time he desired it, he felt like he was losing everything more and more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He awoke buried under a heap of blankets, a fire crackling nearby. Làng had expected to be alone, but he found Shāng had nodded off sitting up next to him. His jumbled mind said that Shāng and Mù would abandon him at the cabin, but something inside of him said otherwise. He could still feel the pain from his last attack, the life trying to fade from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever was locked behind that two year memory gap was slipping through his fingers. That other self with a will, Shāng and Mù had told him. He still couldn’t fathom having such a strong will of his own, but if he had one before, somehow someway, he needed it back. He would keep surviving, continue enduring, try not to think of the gap and insight more painful attacks. The more they happened, the less chance he had to overcome this. He couldn’t live like this anymore. He had to find a way to become himself again. No matter what.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Snowy defense</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It seems they're not alone on this mountain</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Shāng Bù Huàn buried himself in the map. It was a large map of the entirety of Xī Yōu with various markings hand drawn across it. Some writing accompanied it, but most looked to be little more than scribbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng Wū Yáo had peered at the map earlier, attempting to understand the scribbled markings. He eventually surrendered, leaning back against the wall of the familiar hut, pulling at the red pipa’s strings. music made sense to him right now, keeping his mind focused on something other than the two year gap. The less he thought about it before they found the Resonant Memory, the better. He had to survive with at least part of himself intact by the time they found it else he would be lost forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The land is cloaked in deepest blue</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The shadow of eagles across the moon.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Leave the pain and scars in the past.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Shāng could handle Làng’s songs without being affected, much like Mù Tiān Mìng could, so he could sing without worry. Làng focused on the words as he sang them, keeping his mind distracted. They felt like they were coming from his soul instead of simply just words crossing his lips. No, he couldn’t think of that right now. He didn’t want to lose wherever this was coming from.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng paused, staring at the door. It was that silent voice again, just out of reach. He still couldn’t hear the words or the voice, but he knew it was there. He didn’t shoo it away this time, but he still couldn’t quite reach out for it either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But something else had caught his attention. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Someone else</span>
  </em>
  <span> who didn’t belong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng huffed, setting the map down on the floor and chewing on the brush. He looked up, noticing Làng had suddenly stopped. He was looking at the doorway cautiously. “Something wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone is coming,” Làng replied. “I hear voices. Neither Tiān Mìng nor the silent one which cannot reach me”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng rolled up the map, grabbing for his sword. He cracked the door open just slightly, finding the source of the noise. “Imperials. They sure don’t seem well prepared for the snow.” The soldiers were trudging through the deep snowdrifts awkwardly, not wearing extra layers to shield them from the bitter colds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng quietly pulled the door shut. “It looks like an errant search party that followed the signs of smoke up here.” They had kept the fires burning for some time, staving off the cold temperatures while they waited for Mù to return with information and supplies. “Looks like they’re still looking for us. Tiān Mìng must be evading them right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stood up, fishing for his shoes. “I don’t want them defiling my home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng peered back at his companion. “Are you up for a fight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng picked up the familiar red pipa, nodding. “I am feeling well right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pair emerged from the hut, weapons in hand. The imperials had expected to find some wayward villagers all the way up here, but instead they found the targets of their search. “Sword-plundering Nemesis! We found you! Hand over the Index and the Court Virtuoso.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng frowned, wrapping a hand around the hilt of his wooden blade. They didn’t seem like ones to listen to reason. Not that he was certain they had much reason traveling this far into the mountains without furs or warm clothing. They were clustered together on the narrow pathway, not really considering how to battle in these conditions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first one dove forward with a blade drawn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng intersected, driving the red pipa into his stomach and knocking him further down the mountainside. He dodged the next spear, grabbing the soldier’s arm with his hand and driving a knee into his chest. Làng spent so much time fighting then in the arena, this didn’t require much thought. He couldn’t risk having an attack in the middle of combat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng pulled his sheathed sword from his belt, knocking it into the side of the hut. Icicles fell from the roof. Shāng caught them with some qi, infusing them and hurling them like cold sharp knives. They zipped past Làng on either side, easily avoiding the musician as he moved, impaling several soldiers straight through the heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng picked up the stragglers, striking them with the pipa and spearing them on nearby fallen branches. He pulled the red pipa into his arms, firing off several sonic attacks that knocked back the approaching soldiers and driving fallen icicles straight through them. He gripped the neck of the pipa, feeling a pain stirring up in his chest again. He hadn’t used this sort of attack recently, and it was stirring up something he had forgotten. He took to a knee, the pain driving straight through him. As a lancer plunged forward, the assailant was quickly met with a wooden stick straight through the forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng put a hand on Làng’s shoulder as he released the stick. The soldier tumbled dead down the hillside. “These search parties are troublesome, aren’t they?” He knelt down, wrapping Làng’s arm around his shoulder to help the musician back to his feet. He used some of his healing qi to help Làng stabilize again. This would only be effective for so long with the effects of the Resonant Memory getting worse. They had to get the sword back from the empire, strike Làng with it, then seal it away forever before Làng’s memories were permanently sealed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With Làng standing on his feet again, Shāng pushed the dead imperials down the hillside. They rolled into the snowbanks, hiding their presence. “As long as no one sees smoke or the bodies, they shouldn’t be coming back here. Let’s get you back inside for now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng frowned. To think the imperials would come all the way up here, searching for him. Not that they were searching out of concern like Shāng had. They only wanted to return him to the princess for gain or to avoid her wrath. They didn’t care what happened to him. They never did. Shāng and Mù were right. He belonged with them and not at the palace. The longer he was outside of those walls, the more he realized they were right. They knew him, they knew what he felt deep inside as if he’d told them at some point likely within the two year gap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He consciously tried to calm his breathing as he leaned on Shāng for support. The so-called villains cared more about him and his well being than anyone else ever had. It was a strange feeling that they cared, something he didn’t quite understand but felt like he needed. He couldn’t lose this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks like you two had a lot of fun while I was gone,” Mù called out to them as she spotted some blood along the branches. She trudged up the hillside with a small satchel in her hands filled with supplies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you find anything?” Shāng said as she approached.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù shook her head. “A few useful things about the Hunting Fox’s movements, but nothing about the Resonant Memory. People are not willing to talk about a sorcerous blade with all the search parties roaming about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The princess had demanded he dispose of the blade,” Làng informed them, recalling the conversation between the two. “That was only a few days before Shāng found me. It could be anywhere now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Given that this is the sneaky fox, I would bet that he has it on him still,” Mù reasoned. “He’s controlling and manipulative and would do anything to keep us from getting that sword.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And with the devastating effects this sword has, he could easily bide his time and wait for Làng’s will to be completely crushed,” Shāng frowned. “I wouldn’t put that past him either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want that,” Làng frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither do we,” Mù shook her head. “Fortunately I know where he’s going. Unfortunately, it’s the Storm Seal Shrine.” She glanced between her companions. This place wouldn’t be easy for any of them. It was a place where everything went wrong two months ago.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Broken Seal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A return to the Storm Seal Shrine. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You said you were going to take care of that Shāng Bù Huàn!” the seal guardian Lián Měi jabbed a finger at the imperial. “He came back here and now my shrine is half destroyed!” She jabbed her broom at the partially repaired brick walkway and collapsed wall behind him. The damage was done by the Mountain Gale, but it wouldn’t have happened if the Sword-plundering Nemesis and his hussy hadn’t shown up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào Kuáng Juàn pushed his glasses up his nose. “Just a minor setback, I assure you.” He didn’t want to think about how much that Shāng Bù Huàn had actually mucked everything up. The plan had been perfect. Destroy Shāng’s will to fight by making him think he killed his friend, remove Làng’s will to fight and turn him into that doormat songbird, and make the crown princess happy. He would then crush Shāng, take the Sorcerous Sword Index, and collect the reward for eliminating the worst villain in all of Xī Yōu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>would have been </span>
  </em>
  <span>perfect had Làng not been in the sword sanctuary that night. He still was trying to understand why Làng was there of all places, but one thing came to mind. He had overheard something that told him a sword was at fault for the memory gap. Xiào had been careful to not mention that was the cause, simply saying that the princess didn’t want him to suffer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was it, wasn’t it? Làng </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>overheard one of their conversations about the Resonant Memory. It wasn’t as though the princess was quiet about it, shouting as she drove Xiào’s face into the ground. And if he had overheard the information, Xiào would make sure that the willful Làng never returned. It was time to make some drastic changes to the plan, turning this back in his favor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Minor?!” Lián Měi hissed. “You call this minor?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do not worry, seal guardian,” Xiào pushed his glasses up his nose with a toothy grin. “I’ve got a plan in mind.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>….</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The trek up the mountainside had been surprisingly unhindered. The most arduous part of the journey was the incline up through the forests to evade imperial search parties, but each time they peered out to the pathway, no party was ever present. It was suspiciously quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything about this feels off,” Shāng Bù Huàn confessed. “I could just hear Líng Yá saying it was a trap.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s entirely possible,” Mù Tiān Mìng admitted. “We’ve disappeared for several days, the empire unable to find us save that errant search party. That Hunting Fox could be laying a trap or he could be here for the sorcerous sword. Neither is exactly good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But this may be our best chance at confronting him and retrieving the Resonant Memory.” Shāng glanced back at Làng over his shoulder. The musician was still grabbing at his chest, in and out of painful attacks the entire climb up. The memories of falling off the cliff had been the most triggering for him, causing the worst of the pain. His mind was still trying to fight against Resonant Memory’s effects, the sword fighting back and slowly tearing his existence from him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng had considered stashing Làng somewhere safe and returning with the sword, but that plan had fallen apart when the imperial hunting parties found the hut on the mountains. If Làng had another attack, they could overpower him and take him back to the palace unconscious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At the moment, Làng had a lot of pain, but he was still standing, still looking forward despite the light draining from his eyes. Half the trek up, Shāng had carried Làng on his shoulders to give the bard some rest as he attempted to calm his breathing. The attacks were getting more frequent and each one threatened to be the last before he completely broke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Shāng frowned. He still felt so guilty about what had happened, and this trek up the mountain was a painful reminder of a misjudgment he’d made. If only he had listened to Làng that day…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, he couldn’t change the past, much as Mù had repeatedly told him over and over. They had to look towards the future. They had to fix this before they really did lose Làng. Again. “We’ll get that sword back from the Fox and fix this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng grasped at the back of Shāng’s robe for a moment, feeling weakness in his legs from the repeated attacks. He didn’t want to black out again, especially not with their best chance just within reach. He tried to consciously think of something else, but his subconscious mind was taking over. It was this place, deja vu tearing through him more and more as they climbed the hill. They’d done this before, the first time they were here. He could feel it, and that feeling was causing the attacks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng crouched down a bit, offering Làng his shoulder. “Take a moment to rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng wanted to object, but the weakness in his knees and the shortness of breaths said otherwise. He couldn’t climb a mountain like this. He took the offered shoulders, Shāng hoisting him up easily. “Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you apologizing again?” Shāng questioned. “Làng, you’re our friend. No matter what happens, you always will be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng buried his face into Shāng’s shoulder, not sure how to handle that statement even though he’d heard it each time he apologized for being a burden.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng laughed this time. “Still can’t handle people being nice to you, huh. But don’t worry, you’ll remember this soon enough. Though I’m still not sure you really handle nice words after two years anyway. Líng Yá would point out how embarrassed you get every time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gripped Shāng’s robes. He still couldn’t fathom why anyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> be nice to him, but this sort of friendship thing was new. Mù was the closest thing he ever had to a friend before, but then she had suddenly disappeared. He knew now it was to help counter the empire, but at the time, he just couldn’t understand why she didn’t return. “What if… what if the sword seals those memories away?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng fell silent for a moment. He’d had the same worrisome conversation with Mù in the mountains. He really didn’t want to think of it as a possibility, but the more they traveled, the more Làng was losing himself. He could tell by the actions and the constant apologies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll always be our friend no matter what happens, Wū Yáo,” Mù replied. “No matter what happens, we’re not going to leave you. If you can’t remember, then we’ll help you rebuild what you’ve lost, make new memories, become who you want to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng wasn’t sure what to say. He was used to being used or being on his own, afraid of being alone and of what he was. This just felt foreign but it felt genuine. He could hear it in their voices. “.... Thank you….”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure why he deserved this, but they believed it so strongly, he was starting to question these doubts in his mind. Perhaps he simply never understood friendship or experienced it before. It was a strange feeling, being wanted like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng’s breathing had finally stabilized and his legs felt like they could properly move. Friendships or not, he still didn’t want to be a burden. “I… should be able to walk now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng shook his head. “Just rest until we reach the top. We likely have a battle ahead of us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng buried his face in Shāng’s back as another attack tried to rob him of his breath. He didn’t want to lose this, this friendship thing he had with these two. He had to hold on long enough until they could find the Resonant Memory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They soon approached the shrine, the walls finally coming into view. Shāng let Làng down, ensuring the bard was stable before peering out from the shadows of the forest at the Storm Seal Shrine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shrine was left in much the same condition as they had left it a month ago. Almost. The walls were still crumbled, the trees still cracked where the Mountain Gale had struck them. But this time, there were bodies of shrine guards strewn about, slain and left on the road to be picked apart by the crows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seems those imperial backstabbers have already been here,” Mù frowned. “With how quiet it is, perhaps we can find something important inside before the imperials return.” She curled her legs, leaping over the wall and the two men following close behind. The courtyard showed no signs of battle beyond the Mountain Gale’s previous damage. In the center was the seal shrine guardian in a large pool of blood and a sword dug deeply in her back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Certainly looks like the Hunting Fox’s work,” Shāng frowned. “Though to take the seal guardian by surprise like this. We have to assume he has the Mountain Gale in his possession now too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng felt the pain in his body again. Each time he heard that name, his mind was trying to remind him of what had happened on the mountain two months ago. He could feel his hands shake for a moment until Mù had placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm his breath despite the pain still coursing through his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She must’ve let her guard down,” Mù reasoned. “She was in some sort of agreement with Xiào Kuáng Juàn. Perhaps she trusted him enough that she didn’t consider turning her own sorcerous blade against him and he took advantage of this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That Fox certainly takes advantage of everyone.” Shāng stepped over the broken walkway and the streams of pooled blood to look closer at the sword. “This is a sorcerous sword. It matches the descriptions of the Resonant Memory.” A curved blade with a chain and beads shaped like feathers, much like the one he sought in the palace’s sword sanctuary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s no way,” Mù stared at the curved blade. “There has to be more to this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But if it is real…” Làng knit his brow together. This could be their one chance at restoring his lost memories before it was too late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have to try.” Shāng reached forward, pulling the sword from the seal guardian’s back and gasping. He turned back to his companions with a horrified look across his face. The Resonant Memory had been struck by a stronger weapon, breaking it in half with only part of the blade and the hilt shoved into Lián Měi’s back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng gripped the blade’s hilt tightly. He could see the horror etched all over the musician’s face. Làng was struggling to stay on his feet, to carry on, and his last hope was now broken in Shāng’s hand. A broken sword should’ve released Làng from its grip, but the effects were persisting like a bad poison with no cure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should… we should seal this.” Shāng couldn’t hide the crushing defeat in his voice. Stepping over the pools of blood, he set the sword down and pulled the brush from his sleeve. He sighed heavily. It felt like he was sealing Làng’s fate. “Perhaps if we find the blade, we can use dark magics to repair it. It’s safer in the Index for now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shāng, wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t begun the sealing spell as Làng had suddenly spoken up. He turned to the musician to find him looking off to the side with the pipa in his hand. He was on his feet again, his knees bent enough to say that he was still having issues from the attacks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng quickly shoved the brush in his sleeve, retrieving the sword from the ground and tucking it in his waistband.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re surrounded,” Làng informed them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imperial guards quickly poured into the courtyard, weapons brandished and pointed at the trio. “Surrender now, Sword-plundering Nemesis! Hand over the Index and the Court Virtuoso!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was hoping that we’d have more time to deal with this,” Shāng sighed, wrapping a hand around his sword. They had to thin out this crowd, to leave and continue their search for the Hunting Fox. If he had the blade, there was still a chance that Làng would recover.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well this is definitely not going well for them. That Fox sometimes actually does something intelligent once in awhile.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Battle of Blades</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>To survive this imperial onslaught, they may have to resort to some unusual but familiar tactics.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They were completely surrounded in the damaged Storm Seal Shrine by imperial soldiers. Shāng Bù Huàn had reasoned a trap, and sure enough his senses were right. There was now a murdered seal guardian on the ground, a broken memory-thieving sword, and enough imperial soldiers to fill a small town. There was a small chance that Xiào Kuáng Juàn was still in the area, observing his handiwork, but attempting to search for him while Làng potentially had another attack would be risky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well this is a bit of trouble, isn’t it?” Mù Tiān Mìng commented, pulling at the guqin strings and firing off several sonic attacks. She wasn’t about to wait around and see what else they had in store. Pulling the blade from the top of the guqin, she quickly drove it into the nearest soldiers that were quickly being replaced as the ones before them fell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng Wū Yáo quickly drove the pipa into them, pushing them away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This feels a lot like the time we played that duet in the palace,” Mù recalled, backing up against Làng as she fired off several more sonic attacks. “Do you remember that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The last memory I have before the two year gap,” Làng replied, driving the red pipa into several more soldiers. “It truly does feel like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you say we leave Bù Huàn to search for the Hunting Fox while we have another duet?” Mù suggested, bashing a soldier’s face as he attempted to approach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng blocked an attack, glancing over his shoulder at Mù. He hadn’t had an attack when he sang, even back at the palace. When this all began, he did feel pain during the welcome back dinner, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as what he’d been experiencing lately. He had used songs to focus his mind and keep the episodes at bay. If there was still a chance to recover his memories, he had to take it. He swore that he would, and as long as he still could stand, he would continue to persevere and survive until those memories returned to him. “Same song as before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded, shifting the guqin in her arms. She pulled on the familiar notes, quickly harmonizing with his pipa’s music.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Even as the snow piles up in the stillness</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The sound will ring out no matter how faint</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If you can strain your ears and find the source</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>In that moment, you will hear my playing.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng nearly lost his concentration, not expecting to hear them singing in the middle of battle. He jabbed his blade through several approaching imperials as they attempted to take advantage of his distraction. It was like the first time they had encountered Làng at the palace. They sang the same song during the battle as Shāng stole the palace’s sword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two musicians turned their music into a deadly weapon, repelling the approaching soldiers and slicing them limb from limb. Swapping positions in the crowd, they drew the soundwaves around them, thinning the crowds. There were only so many soldiers that could fit in this cliffside shrine. Their reinforcements would eventually run out and hopefully before the pair was overwhelmed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Even now it is drawn to me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hope that exceeds despair</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fated to shout, disrupting the darkness.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng realized what they were doing. Làng wasn’t in pain. He was moving about normally, able to fight against the soldiers with ease. He was focused and not thinking about the two year gap. As long as he was distracted, they could be victorious here and could protect Lang’s memories in the process. And that gave him the opportunity he needed to search the area for Xiào.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slammed his foot into the ground, raising up the bricks and kicking them through the approaching guard. Shāng leapt up, using the guards as a springboard to leap on the main building’s roof. “If I were a sneaky fox, where would I hide?” He stared down the roof at the building where he now stood. It was still damaged from the Mountain Gale, but it was the best location that was nearby and out of sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù glanced down the plaza to see Shāng slip into the main building on the second floor. “Good, Bù Huàn took the hint.” She bashed a soldier’s head in with the edge of her guqin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng glanced at the building, continuing with the song. He had to trust Shāng to find Xiào while they were busy. Right now, this was the best place for him. He could feel the music flowing through him, resonating from somewhere deep within his soul. It was that forgotten self that was calling out to him, trying to reach out through song. He could feel the pain attempting to return as he gripped the neck of the red pipa. He grimaced as he jammed the instrument into an approaching soldier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Focus on the music, Wū Yáo,” Mù urged him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was right. He had to focus. Light on his feet, he leapt up and away from the center of the courtyard as a massive gust of wind barreled through. It sliced up the remaining soldiers, tearing them limb from limb and scattering the courtyard bricks in multiple directions. Làng blocked the bricks with the pipa, twisting in the air to avoid the others as he landed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng was thrown from the building, tumbling in the air before he landed on his feet next to Làng and Mù. “Well, I found him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù frowned as Xiào Kuáng Juàn emerged from the main building with the silver broom sword in hand. “With the Mountain Gale no less.” This would complicate things, but it was expected when the Hunting Fox was involved. The sword had a force strong enough to break the Resonant Memory in half, Xiào then depositing it in Lián Měi’s back. She was probably already dead at that point. “At least he saved us the trouble of tracking him down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng glared at Xiào and his cocky grin. “We’ll need to take him down if we have any hopes of retrieving the Resonant Memory’s blade and restoring Làng’s memory. With all three of us, we can take that sword from his hand.” That Mountain Gale was the challenge, not so much the Fox. They had stomped Xiào into the ground a number of times before, but that sword in the mix really made things difficult.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stared up at Xiào for a moment. He wanted to strike Xiào down, to ram the pipa so hard in his gut that he felt it for a month. He wanted the Fox to fall after how much he’d put Làng through. He took several steps forward before his entire body rang out in pain and he tumbled down to his knees, leaning on the red pipa for support.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tsk tsk,” Xiào chided as he hopped off the broken stairs. “Willful thoughts just don’t suit you, Làng Wū Yáo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng grasped the red pipa tightly with both hands. It felt like he was being strangled as he gasped for air. “Not… not now…” The pain was immense, much like the time he blacked out in the hallway. The cause was different then, a strong memory trying to remind him of the truth. This time it was thoughts that a songbird shouldn’t have. He was a sorcerous blade, something to be used by others and never having a will of his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was what he’d always been told. That was all he could remember.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But these two standing beside him. They told him that he’d gained his own resolve, and that the Resonant Memory was taking that away from him. He wanted whatever that was. He wanted their friendship, the kindness that they showed him since taking him from the palace. He couldn’t lose any of this. He wanted it badly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reached out, feeling that missing resolve and memories and everything from the past two years slipping away from him as he collapsed on the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wū Yáo!” Mù gritted her teeth. This just went from bad to worse far too fast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You see,” Xiào pushed up his glasses with a toothy grin, “he cannot fight against me. Even thoughts about such violence against the one who sealed his memories work against him, crushing whatever will he had ever developed. You might as well surrender, Shāng Bù Huàn. The Virtuoso is no longer then man you knew.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng sucked in a strained breath, glancing at Làng’s collapsed form. There was still a chance that they could save the last shred of Làng’s will if they kicked Xiào into the ground, but if they did, they could risk Làng becoming damaged in the battle. With the Mountain Gale in play, there was really no safe location to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But if they fled with Làng, they could lose the last chance to save his lost memories.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was a bad situation gone worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me make the choice for you,” Xiào outstretched his hand. “Come, Court Virtuoso, come back to where you belong. Come on, songbird. Up you go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stirred to life, using the red pipa as a support as he drew himself to his feet. He barely could hold himself up, his face twisted into a vacant knot as he stared blankly ahead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Làng,” Shāng called to him but he didn’t respond. “Làng!” The sword had finally crushed the last of his memories, hadn’t it? Well no matter. He knew that no matter what happened, Làng was still his friend. He had to protect him and help him rebuild everything he’d lost. He couldn’t let the empire take him and abuse him anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng took several uneasy steps forward, dragging the red pipa as he gripped the neck in his hand. Sharp wind brushed past him on either side, pushing Shāng and Mù backwards. Xiào grinned, the Mountain Gale making this far too easy. The Virtuoso had finally broken, that will of his crushed. Xiào’d be easy enough to shape back into the songbird the princess desired. He would be praised for Làng’s return, rewarded for delivering Shāng’s head and the Sorcerous Sword Index.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Làng!” Shāng shouted for him, dodging the wind attack. “Wake up! Laaang!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I like to rag on Xiao a lot with how plans fall into his lap, but he’s also a conniving bastard. He definitely would have a backup plan up his sleeve, and this one is a really nasty one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Resolve</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sorcerous swords can have devastating effects</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>---àng---</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng Wū Yáo felt blank and empty, a massive hole in his heart. Someone was calling out to him, but he felt like he couldn’t move. Everything hurt. Everything felt empty inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wake up, dammit! Làng!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng opened his eyes. He was somehow walking. He’d started unconsciously, his body moving on its own. He was dragging his red pipa, something he was certain had been stolen from him. But more had been taken. It was the last of his will, the last of his desires to regain his memories. There was nothing left but hopelessness. He felt empty. “...that voice...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You can finally hear me! Dammit, I thought I’d be screaming at you forever, and you know I really like to talk, man.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The voice I heard before….” Làng stared at the ground as his feet simply continued to move. He wasn’t sure where he was going just yet. He felt the wind brush past him, whipping his long hair backwards before it settled back in front of his face. “The one when I was alone....”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You really want to live like this, Làng?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“....” He wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. Everything felt numb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, that blade really messed you up, man. Are you okay with this?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am a blade. I have no choice.” Làng finally looked up, finding Xiào Kuáng Juàn using a silver broom to create wind at whoever was behind him. The man with the suspicious fox-like grin was holding his hand out to him. Why did he even think that leaving with Shāng Bù Huàn that day was even a good idea? Friendship was just a lie, wasn’t it? The only place he belonged was the palace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Like hell you don’t have a choice! You had a choice then, and you have one now.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is nothing left,” Làng insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice scoffed loudly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dammit, Làng! After everything we’ve been through, all the sorcerous songs you put in that pipa to create me! Was it all for nothing?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng stopped walking, taking the red pipa in his hands. Both Shāng and Mù said the pipa had transformed when Làng had found his own resolve, but right now, it looked like the same old red pipa he always knew, just sporting a large gash in the back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had one of his own. That scar across his entire back he found looking in the mirror. The Resonant Memory had caused this, forcibly removing two years of his life and twisting it into whatever the empire desired. It broke him, it scarred his mind, it caused him immense pain. It did this to him, but what could he even do to counter it? Any attempts at remembering had shown him that it was impossible, and now those memories were gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Shāng and Mù. They were still standing behind him, weren’t they? They were calling out his name, trying to get his attention. They said that no matter what, they would never leave him. He was their friend. He turned, glancing over his shoulder. He was barely able to hear them. Was friendship actually a lie or was that the sword’s effects and his crushed existence telling him that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come, Court Virtuoso,” Xiào urged him forward. “That villain will not bend your thoughts anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lies….” Làng mumbled, the words barely escaping his lips. He felt empty but something started stirring within him, something he was certain he never felt before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You know what to do, right?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He did know what to do. Làng wasn’t even sure if it would work or if it would kill him, but either way, he knew this wasn’t a way of living. He could feel it deep within his very soul. Even without the memories or the resolve he supposedly had, he knew he didn’t want to be the songbird anymore. He didn’t want to go back to the princess. He wanted to bash Xiào’s face in seven ways til next week. He wanted to go back with Shāng and Mù.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t hold back, Làng! Use me to enact your justice for everything that’s happened!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng slammed the pipa down on the ground, the shockwave throwing Xiào backwards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you think you’re trying to do, Virtuoso?!” the Hunting Fox hissed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Everything hurt again. Làng felt like his entire body was seizing up. He could feel the scar peel across his back as he gripped the top of the red pipa. Images and thoughts flooded his mind. The damage the Dark Phantom caused, his retreat into the mountains, his talk with Mù about being a sword with a soul and a purpose. He had emerged from the snowy mountains of his own volition, choosing to face off against Xiào and that’s when everything changed. He changed himself. He chose the life that followed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For two years, he traveled with Shāng and Mù, then two months ago, a mistake happened. An attack left him clinging to a cliffside. He fell from there, losing consciousness somewhere at the bottom of a ravine. He’d hit the ground hard, losing consciousness until he woke up at the palace as his past self, not the self he had chosen for himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He remembered that self, the one he desired and all the memories that came with it. Friendship wasn’t a lie, and he was going to do everything to defend it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you are! About damn time!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is,” Làng agreed. It was the first time in two months where he felt like he could breathe. “I remember. I remember everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s impossible!” Xiào seethed. Làng’s will was supposed to be utterly crushed, but instead it was Xiào’s plan getting crushed. The tales of the Resonant Memory said the sword’s effects were absolute, the only way to reverse them was to be struck again in the exact same location. It was a sword from the demon realm, one which demons could use to create mindless slaves of human beings. He didn’t really care where it came from, just that it worked. And right now, it wasn’t working. “What are you doing, Virtuoso?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Deciding my own path.” Làng pulled the strings on the pipa. It didn’t hurt anymore. He could remember those missing two years. The memories replaced all the lies that Xiào and the princess had tried to put in his mind. He knew the truth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng and Mù weren’t some villains who used a sword against him. He had realized that when Shāng carried him from the sword sanctuary. Now he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> it without a doubt in his mind. Those two were the first to ever give a damn about him. They cared for him when he blacked out, when he had pain he couldn’t understand. They told him he had a soul, that he was their friend even when he couldn’t remember. He knew that if he had truly been crushed, they would help him build his will once again. They valued him as a person and not as property.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even though they disagreed sometimes, they were his friends that he would never want to lose. Even if he wouldn’t admit to it aloud.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào was losing everything. He would be kicked in the face, forced to lick the princess’s boot for a month as an apology. Likely both at the same time. She had a temper and now that Làng wasn’t there to calm it, Xiào would feel it full force. This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want this at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d change the story. He’d kill Làng and claim that Shāng had done it. Yes, that would work in his favor. He drew the Mountain Gale up, swinging it downward to force a massive gust at Làng.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng leapt upward in the sky, evading the attack without any pain. He’d broken free. That resolve had broken everything Xiào had done to him. “Firebird in the sky.” Flames surrounded him as he landed once again on the ground. He transformed his white attire into brilliant orange and reds, his hair pulled back into long braids. Líng Yá had replaced the damaged red pipa in his arms. He felt like himself again, how he wanted to look and be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Làng!” Shāng exclaimed, staring at him in surprise. “How is this even possible?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We thought we lost you!” Mù stared at the familiar red form standing before her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This guy’s resolve is much stronger than some damn memory-thieving sword!” Líng Yá replied for him. “Now, it’s time to crush that imperial bastard!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng nodded. He could finally act without worry of intense pain or blacking out. He didn’t have questions in his mind anymore, the two year gap finally filled in. Taking a knee, he fired off several sonic attacks and forced Xiào to move. “He’s very reliant on that blade.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then we’ll force his hand,” Shāng nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng and Mù placed a hand on Làng’s shoulders before leaping off in opposite directions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A three way battle. So that was their plan, but it didn’t matter to Xiào. Wind could go in more than three directions, and this weapon had bested Shāng before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào drew the blade in an upward arch, sending wind outwards towards Shāng and Mù. The attack forced the pair to separate, landing on whatever remained of the walls around the shrine. He continued to fire off attacks at them, barely evading the repeated sonic blasts from Làng.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The red bard leapt forward, transforming Líng Yá into a blade as he dove at Xiào. The Hunting Fox blocked with the Mountain Gale, the impact pushing the pair in opposite directions. Làng tossed the sword into the air, transforming Líng Yá back into pipa form and firing off several more sonic attacks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Xiào leapt out of the way, narrowly missing the roof tiles Shāng flung at him. There was no way he’d be caught by that same attack. The princess didn’t let him live that one down, repeatedly bashing his face into the ground as he prostrated himself before her. He’d rather keep his position of power and all the benefits that came with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù’s sonic attacks forced him to move, nearly taking off the edges of his shoes as she closed in on him. He leapt away, narrowly avoiding more roof tiles. This three-way attack wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng fired off several sonic attacks, forcing Xiào to take several steps backwards. The musician dove forward, driving Líng Yá square into Xiào’s chest. He forced the wind right out of Xiào, causing the Fox to double over. Then Làng struck him on the back of the head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held the pipa in his hands, poised over the unconscious Fox. He hadn’t transformed him to sword form nor had he jammed the pipa into Xiào’s back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want to do, Làng?” Líng Yá questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng and Mù landed next to their friend as Làng continued to stand over the Fox’s unconscious form. Xiao had done so much to him, put him through so much hell, but he still hadn’t driven the pipa or the sword through him. Instead he took the pipa back into his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure about this, Làng?” Shāng questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng nodded, reaching down and pulling the Mountain Gale from Xiào’s hand. “Revenge is a dark path I do not wish to walk. Besides, the princess will do much worse to him than I ever could.” He handed the broom blade to Shāng.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mù put a hand on his shoulder. She understood his reasoning and his choice, even though she wasn’t certain she’d make the same one after all he’d been through. She attempted to visualize what Làng may have witnessed during his time at the palace that could be worse than death, but she didn’t want to think of what the princess actually was capable of doing. “We should leave before reinforcements arrive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng turned Xiào over with his foot, finding the blade of the Resonant Memory tucked in his robe. They didn’t need it anymore, but leaving anything with the empire would never end well. He tucked it in his belt as he followed his companions out of the shrine.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In the first draft of this fic, Chao Feng actually hit Lang a number of times throughout his time at the palace, more than when she simply struck him with the teacup. I had taken it out thinking she wouldn’t hit him as much since she can manipulate him emotionally, but with Season 3, I’m wondering if I wasn’t that far off with the notion.</p>
<p>This chapter is largely based off the final face off against Xiao in the movie where Lang just suddenly shows up. Since people can actually overcome sword effects (I’m looking at you, Xie), why not someone who also has chosen his own path and would stand by it? And well, having Lang destroy Xiao in battle is a fun hobby of mine.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Lasting memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What happens when your two lives cross paths in a simple tavern?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>So many imperials had fallen in the Storm Seal Shrine that the trio had made it all the way down the mountain and back into town without hindrance. The town was quiet, the princess had left the summer palace, and the people scurried about in their normal daily lives. They had situated themselves above one of the cafes in a private room. It felt nice to rest without worry of being pursued for once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s all healed,” Shāng Bù Huàn observed Làng’s shoulders. “Not a trace of the Resonant Memory’s mark on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng Wū Yáo pulled the robe back over his shoulders in relief. He was no longer feeling pain or memory loss, but there was still the concern in his mind that the Resonant Memory’s spell could still be lingering within him. He never wanted to feel like that old self ever again. He left that behind two years ago, resolving to become his own person and use his skills as he saw fit. The empire sought to change that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your resolve is truly something, Làng,” Shāng admitted as he sat down next to him. “That you were able to completely overpower a sword like that through willpower alone. I didn’t even know something like that was possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He wasn’t alone, you know! He had me!” Líng Yá fussed from Làng’s lap. “But he almost did give up! That sword is nasty, but he had to think of the people he would leave behind if he continued to live that way! It was the memory of that fall that reminded him someone was there for him! He couldn’t stand it if you disappeaaaaaah!!!!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng violently pulled the pipa’s strings, shutting him up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay!” Líng Yá fussed. “It’s been two months of not talking but fine!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng couldn’t deny that Líng Yá was right. If he had surrendered to the sword, letting everything get crushed beneath its spell, he would’ve left this all behind without even remembering what it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng frowned. So much had happened and he still felt guilty about being the catalyst that set everything in motion. “Làng, I…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what you’re going to say,” Làng interrupted him. “I recall the last two months quite clearly. You have apologized at least five times. I do not blame you for what happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all?” Shāng questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is angry that you didn’t listen, man!” Líng Yá blabbed. “He was worried that Lián Měi would do something to the two of you and he couldn’t live with himself knowing thaaaaaa---- Okay okay!” The pipa conceded as Làng violently yanked on the strings again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng laughed. “I suppose we’re both concerned about each other. But that is what friends do, especially ones who are doing something dangerous like we are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He wouldn’t have it any other way, you know!” Líng Yá commented, quickly quieting up before Làng had a chance to shut him up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Làng didn’t. This was a life he chose, the one he so desperately fought to have back, just as they had fought so desperately to save him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He looked up as Mù entered the room with some shaobing bread wrapped in some cloth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Any good information?” Shāng questioned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I overheard two imperials gossipping about some strange weather in the neighboring region,” Mù informed them. “Thunderstorms striking the ground when the sky is perfectly blue.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds like a sorcerous sword to me.” Shāng stood up, gathering his sword and other belongings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng followed them downstairs and into the tavern. He spotted the gossiping imperials. Wěi and Fāng, the two guards who always stood outside his door in the palace. They were the only ones he had come to know, the only ones who didn’t have evil rooted deep in their hearts. They must’ve been the ones Mù had overheard when gathering local information. The pair did like to gossip a lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A red pipa!” Fāng exclaimed, leaping out of his seat and jabbing a finger at Làng. “Hand it over, Shāng Bù Huàn!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shāng nearly tripped over his own feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng glanced between the guards. They were there that night when Shāng had stolen him away, but they were on the opposite side of the palace. They must’ve not seen Shāng in person, and Làng looked very different than he did as the songbird. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was holding a red pipa. To think that they were still searching for it. “Wěi, Fāng. I am not Shāng Bù Huàn.” Làng glanced past the pair. Neither Shāng nor Mù had drawn their weapons yet, pausing as Làng spoke their names.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi stared incredulously at the red bard standing before him. He knew that voice well, though the tone was different. It was more confident than the one that handed them dumplings and asked questions quietly in the hallways. “It can’t be… Virtuoso?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Làng Wū Yáo,” he informed them. Perhaps he could tell them the truth. Perhaps they would actually understand. They had shown him a kindness no one else in that wretched palace ever did. “The caged songbird you came to know was nothing but a form forced upon me by the princess and the Hunting Fox, a past self I left behind. They stole my memories and my will from me. This is the real me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s no way the empire would do that,” Wěi gaped. “This has to be a trick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s him,” Fāng said with certainty. “That scar…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was barely visible behind his longer hair and beads, but it was indeed there. A month later and it still hadn’t healed from when the princess struck him with the teacup. It was starting to fade, but it was still visible enough to notice from behind his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng pushed his hair back just enough to show the full scar that still spanned much of his cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi pursed his lips. It really was the Virtuoso. “Why would the princess do this? Why would she change you into something you’re not?” It didn’t make sense, but this man standing before him was indeed the Court Virtuoso. There was no reason to believe that Làng was telling them lies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fāng stared at Làng’s companions waiting at the door. If Làng had his red pipa back and Shāng had stolen the Virtuoso away from the palace, that man must be the greatest villain in all of Xī Yōu. But he hardly looked villainous, waiting patiently while chewing on some shaobing bread. “Everything we’ve been told lately is wrong, isn’t it? Shāng Bù Huàn didn’t come to steal you. He came to rescue you, didn’t he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fāng glanced at Shāng, who looked surprised that the pair of guards were saying this quietly instead of demanding his surrender.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi stared. “Fāng... What you’re saying…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think about it, Wěi,” Fāng countered. “The red pipa, our Virtuoso in one piece, the constant questions about Shāng. He wanted his friend back, even if he couldn’t remember.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wěi stared at the ground a bit. It was true, wasn’t it. That was indeed the Virtuoso standing before them. With the red pipa. In one piece. It made sense more than it should.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is no evil in your heart, yet it pervades every inch of the palace.” Làng placed a hand on Wěi’s shoulder. “Leave the guard while you still can. Find a new life. It is not too late.” He stepped past them unhindered, following his companions out the door. He wasn’t certain what path they would take. Perhaps they would return to the palace anyway, tell someone they had seen them pass through the area. Perhaps they would desert their posts. But perhaps they just needed to be told the truth, much like was when he first pursued Shāng and Mù out of the palace, to decide for themselves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To think you knew the gossipping guards,” Mù mused. “Though I wasn’t expecting them to go after you for a red pipa and mistake you for Bù Huàn.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I asked them to keep an eye out for it,” Làng said, “to keep an eye out for Shāng who supposedly stole it from me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They guarded this guy’s door every night in the palace. They were the only ones who actually cared I was missing when Làng kept asking about where I was!” Líng Yá added as he flipped to Làng’s back. “Only ones who seemed a little decent in that evil cesspool!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Decent imperials. Imagine that,” Shāng laughed. “Well for a pair that seemed to realize they were lied to, perhaps they’ll take your advice and start a new life somewhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fewer good people who die at the hands of the empire, the better,” Mù agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly. Now for </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>journey,” Shāng continued. “Where is this town you heard about, Tiān Mìng?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About two day’s travel due east,” she informed them. “We should be able to pick it out with the weather. Lightning isn’t exactly hard to miss.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pathway to the east was well-trodden enough, unlike some of the hikes they had taken lately. It was a trade route, wide enough to pull a cart but also narrow in some places with roots that threatened to snag a foot or two along the way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng turned, hearing heavy-footed running approaching from behind. Wěi and Fāng stopped behind them, panting a bit from chasing them down and out of town.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You all move fast,” Wěi panted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fāng shook his head with a sigh, patting Wěi on the back. “We thought about what you said, Virtuoso… no, Làng Wū Yáo. About evil being in the palace and what really happened to you. When we heard you were kidnapped, we were pretty devastated. There were so many search parties out to find you, but there was never any word where you went. To think it was you finding your memories and reuniting with your friends this whole time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a lot more to ‘finding his true self’, but Làng found the statement accurate enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wěi and I are going to abandon our posts,” Fāng continued. “Not sure where we’re going, but we’ll figure it out. Anything is better than the palace right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a large farming community further south,” Mù informed them. “Perhaps that’s a good place to start. They probably need capable fighters to help defend the community.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guarding a community,” Fāng considered the offer. “That actually sounds perfect. Take care of yourself, Làng. We’re glad you have your pipa and yourself back.” He grasped Wěi’s robe by the shoulders, dragging off the panting guard. “Come on, Wěi, let’s find that community.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng watched them go. Strange how his two lives had crossed in a positive way for once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Worried about them, huh, Làng,” Líng Yá commented.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He flicked the red pipa in the face. He didn’t need Líng Yá blabbing his inner thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are still good people left in Xī Yōu,” Shāng said. “The sort of people we’re sealing all these swords for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Làng nodded. He definitely had made the right choice in going with Shāng that day in the sword sanctuary. He would’ve lost all of this without even knowing what it was, still suffering at the hands of the empire. Scars would heal, but the evil that the empire committed everyday wouldn’t until they had sealed all the swords in Xī Yōu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s be on our way,” Shāng urged them forward. “Our work isn’t done yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until it was, Làng wouldn’t stop fighting against evil. None of them would.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you very much for reading my second Xi You adventure story!  I may write a third, but for the moment, I’m going to gush about Season 3 and see what it has in store for me! It’s been wild so far, but that’s TBF for us, isn’t it?</p>
<p>I thought this was a pretty fitting way to wrap everything up. Mu’s information has been coming from Fang and Wei gossiping this whole time, not realizing that they were also the ones standing outside Lang’s door. They were the only decent people Lang had met in the palace, so he shows them some compassion. There must be some good people in Xi You, right? Perhaps.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh boy! What a way to start off a story! I thought to myself, how would it go for Lang and Shang's first disagreement about intent? How would the group react to Lang's absolute judgment? We can see how Shang reacts 10ish years later in S2 but something about that scene always struck me, like there was a story behind their reaction. Lang storming off and Shang upset about it. What if something had happened? Well let's see how this all plays out. Prepare yourself for an emotionally charged story (my favorite kind!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>